


state of confusion (i'm in)

by breezered



Series: TLAU: The Last Alternate Universe [1]
Category: The Last of Us (Video Games)
Genre: 1980's AU, Arcade AU, F/F, Recreational Drug Use, and the 80's slang, and the growth, and the hairstyles, it's about the yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:41:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 67,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breezered/pseuds/breezered
Summary: 1983 - Reagan, Michael Jackson moonwalks for the first time, the internet is starting to take off, and arcades are at the peak of their popularity.Jackson, Wyoming. Ellie's got a past, and she's trying to see a future. Dina wants freedom, from herself and society. Abby can't let go of her demons. Jesse wants to grow out his mullet.Or, the one where they all struggle to avoid the boxes that the world wants to keep them in.TLDR; 1980's AU with all the good stuff you come here for.
Relationships: Dina/Ellie (The Last of Us)
Series: TLAU: The Last Alternate Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917013
Comments: 275
Kudos: 630





	1. Ellie / idle hands all orient to her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1983, Friday night at the arcade. Not every one has a bitchin' time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Moral Kiosk" by R.E.M

Ellie kicks the side of the _Beserk_ machine, shaking it and hoping to shock it back into action.

“Can I get my quarter back?”

Ellie glares up at the scrawny kid who asks her that, wishing she could knock the glasses right off his nose.

“Just hold your horses,” she snaps, kicking the machine one more time. It suddenly snaps to life, tinny music coming on over the speakers and the screen lighting up. “There you go.” She wipes her palms on her jeans and gestures her hand out to the machine.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore,” the kid says.

“Well, that’s not my fuckin’ problem.” Ellie walks away, leaving the kid in her wake.

Working at an arcade has some great perks, but snotty entitled kids? Certainly not one of them. She weaves through the crowds, grabbing some trash as she goes and tossing it into the bins. The floor is sticky with spilled soda, and she makes a mental note to remind Marlene to get more carpet cleaning solution. There’s a line at the concession stand, and she hops over the counter.

It’s second nature to take orders and make quick and greasy arcade food. Hot cheese is poured over corn chips, soda cups are filled, fries are scooped. Ellie gets through the line efficiently, leaning back against the back counter as the last customer grabs their nachos and walks away happy. She grabs a cup and fills it with water, taking a long drink and wiping a bit of sweat off her brow.

“Hey, hot stuff.” Ellie looks up and sees Dina leaning her elbows on the till counter. Her hair is teased out and in a high side-ponytail, her oversized sweater hanging off one shoulder and exposing skin and a bra strap.

Ellie’s face feels hot.

“Hey, loser,” Ellie counters. Dina rolls her eyes and Ellie walks over to her, passing the cup of water over.

“Thanks,” Dina says. She takes a sip and hands it back. “How’s the shift going?”

“About as terrible as every Friday night,” Ellie shrugs. “You’re here earlier than I thought.”

“My prof started wigging out about the exam, how all of us are total airheads,” Dina scoffs, “and i know I did a bitchin’ job on it, so I left.” She peers over the counter and spies the fries. Ellie follows her gaze and sighs.

As she scoops up a serving she says over her shoulder, “One of these days I’m gonna have to start charging you for all the shit you eat here.”

“Bite me,” Dina says. Ellie hands her the little cardboard dish. It’s hard to keep the smile off her face as Dina pops fry after fry in her mouth, hopping up to sit on the counter.

“Where’s Jesse?”

Dina shrugs. “I haven’t seen him recently.”

Ellie knows that really means “we haven’t had sex in a while”, and she forces her heart to shed the wings she feels it grow. The sounds of ringing arcade games fills the space between them, Ellie watching Dina eat.

“Oh, by the way,” Dina speaks through a mouthful of deep-fried potato, “I got you something.”

Ellie waits for a beat, thinking Dina is going to bring it out. She doesn’t.

“What?” Ellie prompts, and Dina waves a fry over her shoulder.

“I left it in the back room.”

“The back room you’re not technically allowed in?”

Dina smiles. “Yep.”

“You’re such a dick,” Ellie says, but she can’t help the smile in her face.

“Hey, could I get some fuckin’ service?” Ellie looks around Dina and sees a spotty teenager standing in the queue, his fist clutching some dollar bills.

“Could you wait for five fucking seconds?” Ellie shoots back. Dina gives her an admonishing look and hops off the counter.

“I’m gonna go beat your high score on _Pac-man_ ,” Dina says, her hand briefly drifting over Ellie’s and giving her a wink. Ellie feels her cheeks flush and the obnoxious teenager comes up to the counter.

She barely hears his order, too busy watching Dina walk away. Her legs are clad in some shiny looking black leggings that descend into the tops of her Reeboks. Her sweater is long and comes down nearly to her mid-thigh, but Ellie can still make out a bit of the shape underneath.

But like, as a friend.

She absentmindedly hands the dickhead teenager his food, noting the lack of tip. He looks like the type to go line up for _Space Invaders_ , even though it’s a Friday night and everyone and their mother will be trying to get to one of the two machines they have here. Ellie thinks that if she times it just right, she can probably close just early enough to make sure he doesn’t get his turn.

Sam comes back from his break and takes over the concession counter. Ellie gives him a high five as she passes, taking off her nametag so that no one bothers her while she’s on her break. She walks the familiar carpeted floor to the far side of the arcade. Dina is at the Pac-man machine, her ponytail bouncing as she bobs her head to the music. Ellie steps into her line of sight and leans against the side of the machine.

“How many times have you died?” Ellie asks with a smirk as the sad little death sound chimes from the game.

“Fuck you,” Dina says, “I was doing really well until you showed up and distracted me.”

Ellie holds up her hands. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Well, it was a very distracting way of not doing anything!”

“Not my fault you’re so easily distracted.”

Dina reaches over and socks Ellie in the arm. “You owe me a quarter.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

Dina goes to argue back, but the sound of a machine being kicked draws Ellie’s attention. Not too far away, a group of people in college letterman jackets is crowded around the Battlezone machine.

“Fucking Wolves,” Ellie growls. Dina turns and looks at them, putting a hand on Ellie’s arm where she had just landed a punch. The touch sends little electric waves through Ellie’s skin.

“Ignore them,” Dina says, “c’mon, show me how it’s done here.”

“I hate them so much,” Ellie grumbles, her eyes stuck on the way they all crowd the machine, roaring with laughter and egging each other on.

“I hate these little ghost dudes,” Dina says. “You should beat them up for me.” Dina puts a hand on Ellie’s cheek and guides her head, turning to so she’s forced to look into Dina’s eyes.

Dina’s super gorgeous, deep and dark, soulful, beautiful...

Ellie clears her throat and nods, cracking her knuckles and stepping in front of the machine. “Watch and learn, wannabe.” She pushes a quarter into the slot and the starting screen comes up. _Pac-man_ isn’t a hard game for Ellie, who has spent tireless hours on every game in this arcade, reading magazines and strategy guides, and watching other people make mistakes. In fact, if it wasn’t for Dina liking the game so much, Ellie probably wouldn’t spend any time on it.

But Dina really likes it and after Ellie saw how enthusiastic she was when Jesse got a high score...well, the top three scores were taken over pretty quickly.

Normally this means that Pac-man is a breeze for Ellie. But tonight, she can hear the raucous laughter of her self-proclaimed worst enemies, the sound of them clearly trying to get the machine to stutter and give them a free game. Her knuckles are white on the controls, her jaw tense.

“I should really go see what they’re doing,” Ellie says as Clyde gets her.

“Sam can handle it,” Dina tries reassuring her. “C’mon, ignore them. You can be all mean and scary after your break. I demand all of your break be spent pleasing me.”

Okay, well, that’s the right kind of wording to get Ellie’s head to explode.

“P-pleasing you?”

“Yeah, you wastoid.” Dina steps forward and ducks under Ellie’s arm. “Now, show me how to not get devoured by the ghosts every time I step up to play.”

“Um,” Ellie’s brain is short-circuiting at how Dina’s back is pressed against her front, how Dina slides her hand under Ellie’s. Her hair smells like hairspray.

“Okay, so watch,” Dina instructs, and Ellie tries really hard to focus on the screen instead of how she thinks that if she looked down, she might see right down Dina’s sweater, so she’s actively keeping her eyes pointed up at the ceiling. “Every time I get to the third level, the little red ghost and the little pink ghost immediately get me! It’s totally bogus!”

“Uh huh,” Ellie swallows nervously as Dina sways and there’s the brief press of her full body against Ellie’s.

“So, what’s the strategy?”

Ellie wets her lips and looks at the screen. “Uh, well, Blinky is going to chase you, that’s his programming. Pinky tries to corner you with Inky. So just...don’t let them do that.”

“You’re totally adorable,” Dina says with a laugh, “knowing all the names of the ghosts.”

“It says it right on the title screen!”

Dina lets go of the controls and turns to face Ellie, placing her hands at the places where Ellie’s shoulders meet her chest. “You’re such a geek.”

Ellie huffs, keeping her gaze just above the top of Dina’s head. Her heart feels like it did the first time she got to the final level on _Star Castle_ , racing and beating and trying to force its way out of her chest. She really hopes Dina can’t feel it.

“I uh,” Ellie clears her throat and takes her hands off the game, stepping back from Dina, “I should get back. Sam’s probably swamped.”

Dina’s bottom lip sticks out just a bit, and Ellie wants to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and ask if she knows what she’s doing to her. Instead she gives the world’s most awkward salute and backs away, bumping into a group of high schoolers. With red cheeks, she turns and strides away, pinning her nametag back on and heading for the stock room.

“Fuck me,” Ellie groans, leaning on the shelf full of brown paper towels and industrial grade soap. In the corner of the room she sees Dina’s bag, the little golden cactus charm glinting in the fluorescent light. It feels like the bag is laughing at her and her pathetic crush on her best friend, like now it _knows_ and it’s going to tell Dina the next chance it gets. Ellie flips it off and flicks the lights off as she leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

She heads to the concession counter, hopping behind it and helping Sam get the little carton of fries for his customer.

“Thanks, man,” Sam says. He finishes up the transaction and then turns to face Ellie. “You notice the Wolves?”

“Fuckin’ A, don’t remind me,” Ellie growls. “Have they been bothering you again?”

Sam shakes his head. He’s a nice kid, a few years younger than Ellie and a few inches short for his age. He’s clearly tried to make up for it with his high-top haircut, but he’s still a bit gangly and geeky. An easy target for asshole college students with too much time and too much ego.

“I’m gonna do a floor check,” Ellie says, patting him on the shoulder. “If those dickheads are up to anything, I’ll kick them to the curb.”

“Rad,” Sam says, and he gives her a thumbs up.

Ellie grabs a few extra garbage bags, mostly for the illusion of working. The floor is packed, wall to wall machines and kids, shouting and ringing. One garbage can actually does need changing, and so Ellie does that with one eye on the group of college kids near the _Galaga_ machine.

“Fuckin’ assholes,” Ellie mutters, watching as two of the guys body-block a younger girl from trying to line up for the machine. It’s not enough of a reason for Ellie to go over and open a can of whoop-ass on them, not yet. But the window of opportunity will always open for those who are patient, and Ellie can play the long game better than any yuppie college students.

Bag full of trash in-hand, Ellie walks by the group. She knows they can’t resist being dicks to her, they never have been able to. Ever since high school, they’ve tried to break Ellie down for not being enough of a preppy, rich poser to meet their requirements. Higher education has only inflated their egos more, and the fact that Ellie is working at the town’s only arcade and not attending college? It’s like Christmas morning for them every time she walks by.

“Hey, narbo,” the scrawniest guy of the group, Jordan, calls out to Ellie.

“Hey, penis-breath,” Ellie retorts. It’s unoriginal, but it still has him looking like he got flicked between the eyes.

“Oh, great, you’re working tonight,” the voice is one that fills Ellie with a white-hot rage. Abby is leaning on the side of _Galaga,_ her buff arms crossed over her chest.

“I’m here every night,” Ellie spits back.

“Yeah, we know,” Abby says. All her cronies laugh, and Ellie hates the heat that rushes to her cheeks.

“And yet, you still show your barf bag faces here every Friday,” Ellie says, shrugging her shoulders. She’s painfully aware of the bag of trash she’s got clutched in her fist. “Shouldn’t you all be at a homoerotic initiation ceremony for your fraternity?”

Jordan looks like he’s going to lunge at her, only restrained by the large hand that a tall Latino guy puts on his shoulder. If Ellie had to pick _one_ of them to not punch in the face, it would probably be Manny. Maybe. If she really had to. But she’d still rather get a shot in.

“Don’t you have a toilet to clean?” Abby fixes Ellie with a heavy glare.

Ellie holds her gaze. “Oh, I’ll leave that until after you’ve been in there. It’d be a waste to clean it before that.” Satisfied with her childish comeback, Ellie flips them all off and walks away, garbage bag banging against her leg. She passes through the rest of the floor, picking up stray cups and other bits of trash people were too lazy to walk over to the numerous bins.

A friendly face is leaning against the concession counter, smirking at her.

“Oh great,” Ellie groans, her smile betraying her, “you managed to get in.”

Jesse rolls his eyes and pushes at the sleeves of his white blazer. “I figured if they let you in every day, I shouldn’t have any trouble getting in.” Ellie scoffs and steps around him behind the counter.

“Dina’s probably still hogging _Pac-man_ ,” she tells him.

“Oh,” Jesse clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck, “yeah, I might head over there.” He stays planted at the counter, fiddling with the sides of his hair.

“I guess you guys aren’t currently doing the horizontal tango?”

Jesse blushes and Ellie laughs, pouring him a soda. “Can you not be a twelve-year-old about this?” He takes the drink and takes a big sip, clearly trying to hide some embarrassment behind the paper cup.

“But it’s way more fun this way,” Ellie says with a grin.

“You’re a dick,” Jesse says, glaring at her over the rim of the cup.

“Oh, come on,” Ellie says while patting him on the shoulder, “I give you guys _max_ two weeks until you’re back together.”

“Did she say something to you?” Jesse looks like a hopeful little kid. Ellie doesn’t want to crush his hopes, so she just gives him a crooked smile.

“Make it one week.”

Jesse runs a hand through his hair, tugging on the longer curls that lie at the back. “I’m gonna hit the floor. Thanks for the drink.” He tosses the now-empty cup into the garbage bin like it’s a basketball, extending his arm dramatically and fist-pumping when it goes in.

“Such a fuckin’ dweeb,” Ellie mutters as he walks away.

The rest of her shift passes by in rushes of serving up shitty food and making change for people to use on the machines. Her shoes are sticky with soda by the time she’s ushering out the lingering groups. Sam helps her clean up the concession kitchen, emptying out the grease trap and trying really hard to keep form gagging. Dina and Jesse are sitting at one of the tables, eating the leftover fries.

“You know, for all the free shit I give you guys, you might think about lending a hand,” Ellie grumbles at them as she walks by with a couple full garbage bags.

Dina looks at Jesse, and they fake innocent eyes back and forth between each other and Ellie. “Have you not been getting the money orders we’ve been putting through?” Dina teases her, snarky as ever.

Ellie rolls her eyes and pretends to throw the garbage at her friends. “You think you’re so funny.”

“Me?” Dina presses a hand to her chest, looking every inch like the false picture of innocence. “I would never joke about something as serious as arcade French fries.”

Jesse snorts. Ellie walks away with the garbage, heading out the back to the dumpster. She heaves the bags up and into the big metal bin, shivering against the cold night air, light rain misting her skin. There’s the smell of autumn on the air, dying leaves and cold earth. Ellie breathes it in, embracing the chill of her skin for a moment before she goes back inside.

She’s met with the sight of Sam, Jesse, and Dina all crowded around the _Wizard of Wor_ machine. Jesse and Sam are at the controls, Dina peering between their shoulders at the game screen. The crunchy synthesized bass and flashing screen mean they’ve reached the Worluk, and Ellie goes over to watch.

“Yes!” Sam shoots the worluk and pumps his fist in celebration. Jesse gives him a high five, Dina patting his shoulder.

“Double score dungeon time,” Ellie says, standing behind Dina. Dina looks over her shoulder at Ellie and smiles.

“Geek,” she mouths. Ellie rolls her eyes and leans over her shoulder.

“Jesse, you’re gonna get fucked up,” Ellie says as Jesse lingers too long in a corner.

“Fuck off, I’m – “ Jesse is cut off by the death animation and accompanying sound.

“Told you,” Ellie shrugs.

“You should listen to her,” Dina says, looping her arm around Jesse’s. Ellie fights the pit of jealousy that sits in her stomach, digging her fingernails into her palms to try and cut off the wishful thought of it being _her_ bicep that Dina was touching. “Ellie’s a huge geek, I’m sure she knows what she’s talking about."

The smile that Dina gives her is blinding and teasing and just…it’s a lot. Ellie hides all her feelings behind a roll of her eyes.

Jesse dies again. Sam hides his frustration pretty well, Ellie thinks, but she does him the courtesy of calling Jesse shitty and taking over his controls. Jesse relinquishes them with only minimal complaint.

“Let’s do this, Sammy,” Ellie says. She kicks serious ass at this game, and it shows as she and Sam blaze through the levels. It’s easy to get lost in the screen, the fuzzy music all-encompassing, the flashing colours mesmerizing. The joystick is comfortable, tucked into her hand and her left index finger resting easy on the red button beside it, ready to press at any moment. When she plays games, it’s like everything else in the world melts away.

Sam starts getting hit by the monsters, and then Ellie loses her last life. The game over screen comes up, and she curses. 

“Sorry, man,” she says.

“Nah,” Sam says, “we did good. I should get goin’ though, Henry’s gonna be wondering where I am.” They clap their hands together, Sam grabbing his backpack from beside the machine and slinging it over his shoulder.

“You got a jacket?” Ellie asks, remembering the rain and the cold.

“I’ll be alright,” Sam says, “thanks, Ellie.” Ellie nods.

“See you later, Sam!” Dina says, and Ellie notices that she and Jesse are sitting on the concession counter, Jesse’s arm around Dina’s shoulders.

“Bye,” Sam says, and he heads out the front doors.

“El, come over here,” Dina says, a mischievous grin on her lips. Ellie holds up a finger, walking over to the master switch and turning off all the games. The room is suddenly quiet and lit only by the fluorescent overheads. Ellie’s footsteps are audible now, the carpet absorbing only some of the sound.

“You’re being weird,” Ellie says as Dina wiggles her eyebrows at her.

“And that’s new?” Jesse asks, and Ellie makes a face like ‘yeah, fair enough’, turning her lips down and nodding slightly.

“Both of you are dweebs,” Dina says, “you’re so lucky to have me.” She reaches behind her and produces a big, glass…bong.

Ellie’s eyes widen. “Where the fuck did you get that?”

“Eugene,” Dina says with a shrug, “last time I stopped by the shop.”

“Didn’t realise the electronics store was also a head shop,” Jesse says with a low whistle. He takes the bong from Dina and inspects it. “This is…pretty big.”

Dina shrugs, fishing out a small Altoids tin from her bag. “You can’t handle the size?”

Ellie rolls her eyes at the obvious innuendo in Dina’s voice, grabbing the bong from Jesse. “I’ll fill it.” She takes the bong to the dish sink, and fills up the chamber. “C’mon, let’s go to the back.”

They make their way to the stock room, and Ellie pushes aside a stack of boxes to reveal their usual smoking spot. If Marlene had ever noticed the beanbag chairs and cases of beer, she’d never said anything. Ellie certainly didn’t try very hard to hide it; a couple of boxes of toilet paper weren’t much of a barrier.

Dina collapses into the red beanbag, kicking off her shoes and sighing happily. “Why are these things so comfy?” Ellie sits across from her, with Jesse to her left. Dina tosses Ellie the Altoids tin, and Ellie opens it up and starts packing the bowl.

“I can’t believe Eugene just _gave_ this to you,” Jesse says. “I tried to buy a pipe off of him and he told me he’d never heard of marijuana before in his life. _While_ he was smoking a joint.”

“He’s basically my uncle,” Dina says, “it was a thank-you gift for the meals I made for him while he’d broken his leg.” Ellie holds out her hand for Dina’s lighter, and Dina passes it over. Ellie flicks it open and lights the bowl, drawing lightly through the mouthpiece to help it catch. The herb catches and smoke starts to fill the bong. Ellie pulls hard, sucking up smoke and getting the water to bubble. Holding in the smoke, she passes it off to Dina.

“Impressive,” Dina says, taking her own rip from the bong as Ellie slowly exhales the smoke. Jesse takes his turn, and they pass the bong around until the herb is all burnt up.

“That is some good grass,” Jesse says, coughing lightly.

“Okay, dad,” Dina says, laughing at her own dumb joke.

“Dumbasses,” Ellie mumbles, and Dina leans over and whacks her knee. The air around them is still hazy, and Ellie’s head feels like a really heavy balloon. Like, it’s floating? But also heavy?

“Fuck I’m, like, really high,” Jesse says, and he leans back in the beanbag chair, shutting his eyes.

Dina hums, leaning her head on her hand and looking at Ellie. Ellie looks back, trying to read Dina’s face. She looks really pretty. And far away, even though she’s right there. Ellie could probably reach out and touch her if she could lift her arm, but somehow her arm is like, a thousand pounds.

“Okay, yeah,” Ellie says, her mouth dry, “Dina, this is really strong.”

“I know I’m strong,” Dina answers.

“No, the…the reefer,” Ellie mumbles, “it’s strong.”

“Oh,” Dina says. “Sure. Yeah.” She starts laughing again, and Ellie joins in. They laugh until they’ve got tears running down their faces, and Ellie has to gasp in her breaths. Slowly the laughter subsides, occasional giggles slipping from their lips.

“God, we are _stoned_ ,” Ellie says, wiping some tears off her cheeks.

“Jesse’s asleep,” Dina says, and Ellie looks over at him. Sure enough, his head is tilted back and his mouth hangs open. They start laughing again, and Ellie grabs a marker from her small box of art supplies she keeps in the corner. On unsteady hands and knees, she crawls over to Jesse and carefully draws an artistic penis on the side of his face.

“Beautiful,” Ellie says. Dina rolls her eyes and grabs Ellie’s arm, pulling her onto the red beanbag with her.

“You’re such a child,” Dina says, tapping the tip of Ellie’s nose. Ellie grins.

“You love it,” she says, her tongue bold from the height she’s flying at.

“Maybe,” Dina says, pulling Ellie’s arm behind her head and using it as a pillow. “God, this _is_ really strong stuff.” She turns on her side, lacing her fingers with Ellie’s and curling up. “Nap time.”

Ellie freezes as Dina’s back presses against her side. Dina smells like hairspray and perfume, and Ellie’s senses feel overwhelmed. The beanbag doesn’t leave them much room, and Ellie can’t move in fear of disturbing Dina. So she shuts her eyes and leans into the feeling that she’s floating through the sky on a cloud, letting it carry her off into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter of the 80's AU! I'm really excited about this one, and not just because I get to look up a bunch of great 80's references and slang. A lot of exposition in this, just setting the scene for all the drama to come.
> 
> Title is from the Kinks "State of Confusion"
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	2. Ellie / and cut him 'til he cried out in his anger and his shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday morning drama wherever Ellie goes.
> 
> Chapter title from "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkle

Ellie wakes up to the sound of Johnny Cash leaking in under her bedroom door. She groans and rolls onto her back, throwing an arm across her eyes. There’s no sun blinding her, the morning grey and rainy outside her window. Kicking off the layer of blankets, cool air hits her skin and raises goosebumps. Ellie sits on the edge of her bed, rubbing at her left eye, which is weirdly dry.

Johnny Cash gets louder, and Ellie clenches her other hand into a tight fist.

“So fuckin’ loud,” she grumbles. Grabbing a sweatshirt from the foot of her bed, she pulls it over her t-shirt and stands up. On her way to her door, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair is flat on one side and standing up on the other, her legs skinny and pale where they stick out from the flannel shorts she’s got on. “What’re you looking at?” She scowls at her reflection and pulls her door open. The music is coming from the kitchen, and she follows the sound and the smell of bacon down the stairs.

Joel is at the stove, gently bobbing his head to the beat. Ellie takes a deep breath in through her nose and grabs the orange juice from the fridge, opening the carton and taking a drink.

“You’re not the only one who drinks outta that,” Joel says.

Ellie just drinks more, not looking at him. She lets out an obnoxiously loud breath when she pulls her mouth from the carton’s lip, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

“I made some breakfast,” Joel says, and he puts a plate full of scrambled eggs, bacon, and baked beans on the counter beside Ellie. Ellie grabs it, walks over to the garbage can, and dumps the food in it. Her heart clenches at the wounded look in his eyes, but she shoves that feeling way, _way_ down and tosses the plate in the sink.

She grabs a frozen waffle from the box in the freezer and sticks in in the toaster. Her arms cross over her chest and she stares at the wall across the room. Dolly Parton’s voice comes on the kitchen radio, and Ellie’s toes start tapping. Everyone likes a little Dolly. 

“You got in late last night,” Joel speaks again, and Ellie rolls her eyes. He really isn’t picking up on her silent treatment; in fact, it’s been nearly three months and he still tries this shit every time they’re both home in the mornings. Ellie’s nearly cracked a few times, but her bull-headedness helps her stand her ground. “You got work today?”

The toaster pops and Ellie grabs the waffle, ripping into it with her teeth as she heads back upstairs. Joel doesn’t call after her, and she can’t decide if that’s a relief or disappointing in some twisted way.

She changes into a pair of acid-wash jeans, a navy and green flannel button-up pulled on over a plain grey t-shirt. She jams her feet into her canvas sneakers, tucking the laces into the sides of the shoes. There’s a weak attempt at taming her hair, fluffing it a bit and pulling half back into a bun at the back of her head. Ellie shoves some sweats and an old shirt into her backpack.

“You heading out?” Joel asks as she steps out the front door. She slams it shut behind her without answering.

Her car sits at the curb, rain drops bouncing off the chipped paint. Dina gives her shit about the state of her car all the time, talking about the transmission and the fan belt, all sorts of mechanical stuff. Dina’s good with machines, good with electronics. Ellie pats the car’s hood as she walks around to the driver’s side. The ’71 Oldsmobile Delta 88 was bought used for a reasonable price, and that’s all Ellie cared about. Dina had affectionately called it the “Smell-ta 88” because of the excessive fumes it spits out, and she frequently offers to help Ellie fix it up. Ellie’s considered it just because any time spent with Dina is time well-spent.

The car starts with the familiar three stutters, and then the engine comes to life with a bit of a kick. Ellie sits, her hands on the steering wheel and her foot on the brake, like she has done every morning off for the past three months. The car radio is playing loud music from the local rock station, and Ellie listens to Robert Plant sing about good times and bad times.

“Fuck,” Ellie whispers, clenching her jaw. “Come on, Ellie.” Her hand hovers over the gear shift.

She turns the engine off and bangs her palms against the steering wheel. With a few more choice curse words, she gets out of the car and shoulders her backpack. Hunched against the rain, Ellie heads off down the street. Kids are out on the street, riding their bikes with no concern for the weather. Ellie dodges a wayward baseball, heading north up the road.

The college campus is a twenty-minute walk, and Ellie wishes it wasn’t raining so she could at least listen to her walkman. Dina had given it to her, a gift from her summer job with Eugene. She didn’t have a ton of cassettes yet, most of her music still on 45’s, but she’s been slowly building her collection.

The leaves on the trees are starting to turn into little flames; a few are scattered on the ground and one sticks to the toe of Ellie’s shoe. She tries to kick it off as she walks, but the rain keeps it in place. Her socks are wet, and she’s ready for the shit Dina’s going to give her about proper footwear when she sees her.

Dina lives in the all-girl’s dormitory, right near the front of campus by the big “Jackson College Wolves” sign. The dorm is named after some famous male alumnus, which Dina has been up in arms about for her three-years she’s already been a student. Ellie gets to hear the rant at least once a month, and Jesse’s probably heard it even more.

Ellie reaches the front door and waits. After a few minutes, a couple of girls come out and Ellie slips by them. Dina’s room is on the first floor, at the end of a long hall. Ellie knocks, leaning up against the wall beside the door. She hears Dina stumbling around inside, and the door clicks open.

“You’re early,” Dina mumbles. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, her legs bare where they stick out from the over-sized t-shirt she’s got on. Ellie steps in and shuts the door behind her, watching Dina collapse onto the small bed. The room is tidy, everything sitting nicely in its proper place. Ellie doesn’t know how Dina does it, keeping everything so organized and neat.

“Joel was home,” Ellie offers up as explanation. She sits at the desk, dropping her bag at her feet.

“You’re still being a dick?” Dina asks.

“I’m not the dick, _he_ ’ _s_ the dick,” Ellie snaps. Dina raises her hands in surrender, sitting up against the wall. “You don’t get it.”

“No duh,” Dina says, “you haven’t told me jack shit about it.”

“It’s complicated,” Ellie says.

“Uh huh.”

“I thought we could go to the gym,” Ellie says, changing the subject. “Put some pants on.”

Dina squints at Ellie. “You want to go to the gym?”

“I’m just very energetic today.”

Dina scoffs and lifts her arms above her head, stretching with a small whine. Ellie hopes the heat she feels in her cheeks isn’t visible. “Fine,” Dina says, “but only because I know they’ve got that super-hot aerobics instructor in on Saturdays.” She stands up and pulls off her shirt. Ellie averts her gaze, locking eyes on a picture of her, Dina, and Jesse that sits on the desk.

“I’m not doing aerobics with you,” Ellie says, “and can you not get naked while I’m in here, please?”

“You’re such a prude,” Dina laughs, “it’s 1983, Ellie. Women don’t need to be all ashamed of their bodies anymore.”

“I’m not _ashamed_ of shit,” Ellie retaliates, “I just don’t want to see your tits first thing in the morning.”

It’s times like these that make Ellie extra-grateful that Dina can’t read minds, because seeing Dina’s breasts first thing in the morning? Sounds a little bit like heaven.

“Jesus, quit wigging out,” Dina says. “I’m all covered up, okay? Your poor sensible eyes won’t burn up in their sockets.”

Ellie looks over and sure enough, Dina is covered up. In bright skin-tight work-out clothes. A black leotard is pulled on over red leggings, and Dina pulls a loose off-the-shoulder shirt over top.

“Didn’t realise I was going to the gym with Jane Fonda,” Ellie says. Dina rolls her eyes and punches Ellie’s bicep.

“Shut up,” she says, but Ellie notices a bit of a red tinge to her cheeks. “Okay, just gonna grab my leg-warmers and sneakers. Wait in the hall?”

Ellie nods and does that, grabbing her bag and smiling awkwardly at the few girls who pass by. They all look her up and down with that familiar judgement in their eyes. Ellie’s never been one to follow trends, perfectly comfortable in the same old style she’s always had. It doesn’t make it any easier when people look at her like she’s some sort of freak, but she sticks to her guns.

“Okay, let’s go,” Dina says as she enters the hallway, a big multi-coloured windbreaker on. She’s even got a sweatband on her forehead, like she’s in some ridiculous work-out video.

“Okay, seriously, is Richard Simmons looking for extras at the gym today?” Ellie asks, and Dina rolls her eyes.

“I look deadly,” Dina says, and Ellie can’t find a way to argue that. Dina does looks deadly, it’s exactly how she looks, like if Ellie looks too long, she’s going to explode. They walk to the gym, exchanging small talk. Ellie keeps her distance when Dina drifts too close. It’s too tempting to stand close to her, to be near and smell her perfume. It feels like a gateway drug, and Ellie can hear Nancy Reagan in her head saying “just say no!” like it’s that fuckin’ easy. 

The campus gym is pretty quiet, not too many college students wanting to work out on a Saturday morning. Dina hands Ellie her coat, asking if she’ll put it in a locker for her. Ellie does so, and changes into her own less-fashionable work-out attire. She finds Dina by the rowing machines, stretching out her legs.

Why did Ellie think this was a good idea again?

Ellie sits on one of the machines, grabbing the bar. A loud throat-clearing from Dina makes her pause. “What?”

“You should really stretch before you start,” Dina says.

“I stretched on my walk over here,” Ellie says, and Dina shakes her head.

“Fine, pull a hamstring,” Dina says, grabbing her toes, “see if I care.” Ellie shrugs and starts moving, her grip tight on the machine. Dina starts on the machine beside her a few minutes later. Ellie matches her pace, then starts rowing a bit faster. Dina catches her eye, a wicked grin coming across her lips. Ellie rolls her eyes, knowing where this is going. Silent competition. Dina speeds up, then Ellie speeds up, until they’re both pumping away, chests heaving and arms starting to shake.

Dina gives out first, coming to a stop. Ellie follows suit soon after, and she flexes her biceps.

“Eat it,” Ellie taunts. Dina scoffs and leans over, poking Ellie in the armpit. “Ow!”

“Oh, suck it up,” Dina says. She stands up and shakes out her arms, offering Ellie a hand getting off the machine. “I’m going to go on the bike. You gonna be okay all by yourself?” She’s teasing, smirking at Ellie and patting her arm in a mocking, patronizing way.

“Fuck off,” Ellie says, swatting Dina’s hand. “Go, do your fancy bike exercise.” Dina laughs and walks away, pulling her legs up behind her as she walks, stretching out the front of her thighs. Ellie really wishes Dina had just worn some normal fucking shorts, because it’s very distracting how the spandex grips her thighs.

Dragging her gaze away from her friend’s figure, Ellie heads over to the small area sectioned off for more aggressive exercise – boxing. She grabs some wraps from the bin, weaving the material over her hands reverently. Joel had made her start boxing when she was fourteen, trying to help her work out her anger and energy in a more effective way than picking fights in the schoolyard. Now, seven years later, Ellie uses it to focus herself _and_ work out her rage. She’s got a lot of that, always bubbling under the surface like magma.

Her fist strikes the punching bag with a satisfying sound. Bouncing on her toes, Ellie strikes again. Left strike, right hook. Dip, uppercut with her left and forward strike with her right. The patterns come from the two years of actual training she took in her adolescence, but she knows her technique is pretty sloppy.

“Oh, great,” someone says from behind her. Ellie pauses and turns, her face falling into a grimace when she sees Abby and two of her friends standing by the small ring.

“Jesus,” Ellie huffs, “are you stalking me?”

“This is _our_ gym,” Abby snipes, “you don’t even go to school here.”

Jordan is on her left, sneering at Ellie like some sort of 1930’s gangster. “Pretty weak form,” he says, and Ellie clenches her fists.

“Yeah? Why don’t you come over here and see if that’s true?” Ellie feels that anger, that familiar feeling, start to rise in her. It’s hot and violent in her gut.

“I don’t fight townies,” Jordan spits.

“Jordan, shut the fuck up,” Abby says, “she’s really not worth our time.” Abby ducks under the ropes of the ring, strapping her gloves closed. “Nora, c’mon.” Jordan gives Ellie one last glare, which she holds and returns until he turns away to watch the two girls starting to spar in the ring.

“Assholes,” Ellie mumbles, turning back to her bag and hitting it so hard she feels the shock pass up her arm. She can hear them talking and laughing, and it’s like the sound of one thousand nails on a chalkboard in her ears. “Fucking - ,” she hits the bag again, “shut - ,” she hits it again, the bag swinging back, “up!” She swings again and hits the side of the back, breathing heavily.

“Like I said,” she hears Jordan say in his snide, asshole voice, “weak form.

Elie whirls around and grabs a pair of gloves. “Okay, ass-wipe, you and me. Let’s go.” It’s like she’s seeing red, her mind focused solely on kicking the absolute _shit_ out of this guy.

Jordan laughs. “You really wanna do this?” He looks over Ellie’s shoulder. “You want me to embarrass you in front of your little girlfriend?” Ellie glances back, and she sees Dina standing ten feet back, arms crossed over her chest as she watches Ellie posture in front of Jordan.

“She’s not my - ,” Ellie takes a sharp breath through her nose. “You’re just scared because you know I’ll kick your ass.”

“Fine,” Jordan says, “I’ve got time.” He grabs a pair of gloves. Abby and Nora look pissed, but they step out of the ring. Ellie watches Abby pass by her with narrowed eyes. Abby doesn’t even look at her.

Ellie climbs over the ropes, adjusting her gloves. She swings a few punches to the air in front of her. Jordan is across the ring, leaning against the ropes and watching her with a smug grin.

Ellie can’t wait to knock it off his face.

“Okay,” Nora speaks up from the outside of the ring, “go for it.”

Ellie bounces on her toes, holding her gloved fists up to protect her face. As she predicts, Jordan comes flying at her first, a flurry of quick punches. Ellie absorbs most of them with her torso, keeping her hands in front of her face. She crouches a bit, lowering her angle. It hurts when his punches land higher, but she waits one…two…three.

Her fist strikes hard and fast, right into his unguarded gut. That’s Jordan’s weakness – he’s a cocky bastard. Unprepared for the strike, he doubles over and stumbles back. Ellie’s on him, punches landing with wild energy. Her fist strikes his cheek before he can guard his face, and his head snaps back. Ellie grins. Her chest is on fire with the heat of anger and adrenaline, and she strikes him again, and again, and again.

“Fuckin’ _bitch_ ,” Jordan screams at her, backing away into the ropes. Ellie lets him, giving him a moment to breathe. Her breaths are heaving, her chest rising and falling.

“Yeah,” Ellie says, “take your time.” She turns to walk back to her corner, wiping sweat off her brow with the back of her glove.

And then she’s face-down on the mat, Jordan sitting on top of her and shoving her face into the ground. Ellie flails for a second, struggling to breathe as her nose is squashed into the floor. She kicks her leg up, bending at the knee and striking Jordan in the back. He grunts and his grip loosens enough for her to wriggle underneath him. With a mighty effort, Ellie manages to turn over.

Jordan looks crazy. His eyes are wild, blood dripping from the place his lip has split. Ellie grunts, trying to flip their positions. Jordan lands a punch to her face, and the world goes black for a second. The hit feels like fire, spreading from her nose through her face. Ears ringing, Ellie throws her hands up in front of her face.

“Get off of her!”

That’s Dina’s voice. Suddenly Jordan’s weight is gone, and Ellie peeks through her gloves. Dina is standing between the two of them, her fists clenched at her side. Nora stands behind Jordan, and Ellie wonders how long she would have waited to step in.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dina is saying, her voice dripping with venom. Ellie stumbles to her feet, grabbing the collar of her t-shirt and holding it to her bleeding nose. “Fucking attacking from behind? Are you just a plain-old idiot, or is there something _actually_ wrong with you?”

“Jesus, chill out,” Nora says, rolling her eyes and grabbing Jordan’s shoulder.

Dina steps forward, and Ellie rushes up, her vision blurry and her head spinning. She doesn’t know what her plan is, but she knows if anyone lays a fucking hand on Dina, she’ll kill them.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Dina says, low and threatening. It’s surprisingly scary, and Ellie thinks she sees a little bit of fear cross Nora’s face. Jordan spits at Dina’s feet, and Ellie tries to step forward. Her knees buckle, and if it wasn’t for Dina’s quick reflexes, she would have hit the mat.

“Weak,” Jordan says. Nora drags him out of the ring, and Abby walks with them across the gym. The buff girl looks back over her shoulder at Ellie, scowling. Ellie lifts a hand to flip her off, but the boxing gloves impede that creative idea.

Once the three Wolves are out of sight, Ellie lets herself fall to her knees, shifting so she’s sitting on her ass in the middle of the ring, tossing her gloves aside. Dina crouches in front of her and gently pulls her hands away from her face.

“You’re so stupid,” Dina mumbles, lifting Ellie’s chin with her forefinger. “Jesus Christ, Ellie.” Dina pulls off the loose shirt she has on, folding it up and pressing it to the steady flow of blood that’s leaving Ellie’s nose. “You look like shit.”

“Asshole,” Ellie croaks, taking the shirt from Dina and holding it to her nose. “God, what a fucking _dick_.”

“Why the fuck would you challenge someone on the boxing team?” Dina sits back on her heels and gives Ellie a very chastising look.

“Because I hate them,” Ellie says, nasal and unclear from the way her lip is starting to swell.

“Right, what a mature reason,” Dina says. She grips Ellie’s elbows and helps her to her feet, draping Ellie’s arm over her shoulders. “We need to ice your face before I can’t stand to look at it anymore.”

“But I’m so cute,” Ellie mumbles. Dina doesn’t answer, just walks them over to the locker room. Ellie directs her to the right locker, and Dina sits Ellie down on a bench. She takes Ellie’s right hand, unwrapping the strip of cloth. Ellie hisses at the twinge in her wrist. Dina’s touch is careful, and she unwraps Ellie’s other hand. For a moment, their hands linger together, and Ellie’s heart skips a beat.

Dina’s hands are really soft. 

“Stay,” Dina says, gently placing Ellie’s hand in her lap, “I’ll go see if I can rustle up some ice.”

“I’m not a dog.” Ellie flexes her hands slowly, grimacing.

“Then stop misbehaving,” Dina snaps. Ellie watches her go through a swollen eyelid. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, the anger fading as her pain rises.

“Fuck me,” Ellie breathes. Her ribs have started aching, probably pretty badly bruised. The blood has slowed its descent from her nose, so she gingerly pulls Dina’s shirt away. Pressing carefully along the bridge of her nose, she can tell it probably isn’t broken. She stands slowly, walking to the row of sinks and tossing Dina’s shirt in, running cold water. The small mirror in front of her reflects a pretty pathetic image. “Fuck you.” Ellie lifts her shirt, and sure enough a bruise is starting to blossom across her ribs.

“I told you to stay,” Dina says, coming up behind her.

“Like you said,” Ellie says, lowering her shirt, “I’m stupid.” Dina holds up a plastic bag full of ice, and Ellie takes it. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” For the first time, Ellie _really_ notices Dina’s now bare shoulders. Her skin is still holding her summer tan, freckles splashed lightly across the arches of her bones. “You should get changed; you’re covered in blood.”

“Right,” Ellie says. Dina is clearly angry with her, and it feels worse than any of the punches Jordan landed. She shucks her shirt, tossing it under the tap with Dina’s. Trying hard to hide the pain as her arms lift and lower, Ellie bites down on the inside of her cheek.

“Here,” Dina goes to the locker and grabs Ellie’s clothes. She helps Ellie into her t-shirt, one arm at a time. The flannel shirt comes next, Ellie manages that on her own.

“I got this,” Ellie says, trying to wave Dina away as she takes off her sweatpants. Dina shrugs, tossing the jeans on the counter and leaning against the wall behind Ellie. Ellie gets dressed as quickly as possible, embarrassed to have Dina watching her dress. Once Ellie is clothed, Dina pushes off the wall, pulling her windbreaker back on and shouldering Ellie’s backpack. Ellie grabs their shirts and wrings them out. She rolls them up and puts them in the bag.

“Hungry?” Dina asks. Ellie nods, and she walks two feet behind Dina the whole way to the dining hall. Dina’s disdain is evident, her disappointment gnawing away at Ellie the rest of the way.

***

When Ellie gets home that afternoon, Joel is sitting on the front porch. He’s plucking away at his guitar, something both mournful and bouncy. When he catches sight of Ellie, his hands still, his brow creasing with worry.

“The hell happened to you?”

Ellie stops, standing at the front door, hand on the doorknob.

Joel sighs, and she hears him put the guitar down. “Ellie, c’mon,” he sighs, “talk to me.”

“Fuck you,” she hisses.

“Hey, now,” and even when he’s being cursed at, he’s so unflappable, “you don’t get to talk to me like that when you’re the one showing up here with a face like that.”

“You said I have to talk to you,” she says, “you didn’t specify how.”

Joel stands, she hears the porch creak under the shift of his weight. “Kiddo,” he reaches out and touches her shoulder.

Ellie turns and swats his hand away. “Don’t you _fucking_ touch me!” Her chest is heaving, ribs aching with each breath. The fire is lit in her chest again, her familiar companion.

Joel drops his hand, looking every part the wounded one. “I just…you okay?”

“Yeah, Joel,” Ellie spits, “I’m fucking great.” With that, she opens the front door and storms inside, not bothering to slam it shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically I posted during the week after the first chapter....ah. Well, it came out fast and I managed to get a start on the next, so why delay? 
> 
> The enthusiasm and support for this story is already overwhelming! I'm so excited to write this and getting to read your comments is always so fun. I'm glad we're all on board for that 80's aesthetic. Thank you for all the kudos, comments, and the people who silently show up and read! It all makes me so happy :) see you next time for a bit of a change in perspective....


	3. Abby / i wonder what you'll do when your chance rolls around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's happening on the other side?
> 
> Chapter title from "Wait For Me" by Hall and Oates.

Owen looks good.

That’s the first thing Abby thinks when she sees him across the room. He’s holding a bottle of beer, laughing with Manny. He’s got a new jacket on, one of those _Members Only_ jackets. It frames him really well, accentuating his shoulders and drawing attention away from Mel, who is tucked under his arm.

“Hey, Abby the airhead,” Nora calls Abby back to the conversation, nudging her with her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Abby says, “what was that?”

“Just saying to Leah how her boyfriend got his ass handed to him by Ellie Williams today,” Nora says, and Abby nods.

“Right,” she says.

Leah scoffs. “You’re full of shit.”

“Nope,” Nora says, popping the ‘p’, “he only won because he came from behind. Like the fucking psycho he is.”

“Fuck you,” Leah says, “he’s not a psycho.”

“Uh, yes he is,” Nora says, “if it wasn’t for that Dina girl stepping in, he would have punched her until she fucking died on the mat.”

“Calm down,” Abby cuts in, “you’re being a bit dramatic.” Her eyes drift back to Owen, her heart doing that annoying fluttering thing when he smiles and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m, uh, going to get a drink.”

“Sure,” Nora says, and Abby scowls at the tone of her voice.

“Shut up,” Abby mumbles. She weaves through the crowd, excusing herself when she bumps into a few people. There’s a cooler by the back door, less than six feet away from where Owen is standing. Grabbing a beer, Abby walks over and stands beside Manny.

“Hey, Abs,” Owen says, and Abby feels like melting at his smile. Owen’s a few years older, having come to college after a few years in the army. He never shipped out anywhere, but it’s clear in his composure that he’d spent time under that regimented way of life. He doesn’t slouch around; his hair is always well-groomed. It’s one of the many things that first made Abby like him in the first place.

Abby tucks her hands into the pockets of her jumpsuit. “Hey, Owen.” She clears her throat, remembering the other two people in the little group. “Mel, Manny.”

“Hi, Abby,” Mel says, in that mousey way she has. She’s got a dress on, something that looks like it should go back to 1977 and stay there.

“Enjoying the party?” Abby asks them.

“Yeah,” Mel says, “it’s pretty fun.”

“Totally,” Abby says.

“Hey, you guys hear about Jordan?” Manny cuts in, and Abby knows he’s doing it to disperse the awkwardness that sits between all of them now.

“About his stupid fight?” Owen shakes his head. “I heard. He’s such an idiot.”

“He’s lucky he’s not getting kicked off the team,” Manny says, “Coach was _pissed_ when he heard.”

“Coach doesn’t give a shit about a fight with a townie,” Abby says, “as long as Jordan won.”

“I heard he attacked from behind,” Mel says.

“What do you know about it?” Abby snaps. She regrets it when she sees the angle of Owen’s brow. She knows she needs to try and be nicer to Mel, but there’s just something about the smaller woman that really chafes her.

“Just what Nora’s been telling everyone,” Mel says with a shrug. She doesn’t meet Abby’s gaze, looking up to Owen instead.

“I’m not surprised,” Owen sighs. “Jordan’s a loose cannon.” He shakes his beer bottle, peering at it. “I’m out. Abby, you want to come and get another with me?”

Her bottle is still full, but she nods anyways. She follows Owen to the back door, which he pulls open and steps through. Abby joins him outside, taking a deep breath of the autumn air. The moon is bright overhead, the sky clear.

“What’s up?” Abby asks, sitting next to Owen on a nearby bench. Owen pops his beer open on the edge of the bench, taking a long drink.

“Just needed some air,” he says. Abby doesn’t believe him, but she lets him sit in silence. She can feel his body heat through the few inches that separate them. His cologne permeates the air, and it brings back floods of memories. Memories of laughing with him, of touching him and being touched by him. Memories of fights. Lots of fights.

“What are we doing out here, Owen?” Abby asks again. Her chest feels too tight, like someone is trying to make her two-dimensional.

Owen picks at the label on the bottle. “Is it so bad that I wanted to get you alone?” He looks at her like a sad puppy, and Abby has to look away to avoid leaning in and kissing him.

“It’s not _not_ bad,” she says. “You’re going with Mel. We don’t get to be alone anymore.”

“That’s too bad,” Owen says, “we had some good times alone.” He gives her a smile, bumping her with his shoulder.

Abby laughs, nodding her head. “Yeah, we did.”

“ _Tubular_ ,” Owen says in his best surfer-voice. Abby rolls her eyes, grinning. “There it is. I feel like I haven’t seen you smile in forever.”

“You don’t hang around for the fun stuff anymore,” Abby points out, and he sort of shrugs and nods.

“Guess so.” Owen leans forward on his knees, fingers tapping the outside of the bottle. “I, uh, I have some news.”

Abby doesn’t like the way he says it. It sounds like something she doesn’t want to hear.

“Owen,” she says, “it’s okay. I don’t need – we’re not together, you don’t have to – ,”

“Mel’s pregnant.”

And just like that, the floor drops from underneath her. The edges of her vision darken, and her stomach falls through her feet.

“Oh.”

“It wasn’t planned,” Owen says, and Abby can hear him trying to placate her, “she just told me a few days ago. I…I don’t know what to do about it.”

Abby takes a deep breath, staring out into the dark backyard. “She gonna keep it?”

“Yeah,” Owen says, “she wouldn’t get a…one of those.”

“Of course she wouldn’t,” Abby scoffs.

“Abby,” Owen puts his hand on her knee, and Abby looks at him. His eyes are tinged with red, and for the first time that night she notices the dark shadows under his eyes. “Abby, just…tell me what I should do.”

It’s clear, what he’s really asking. And Abby wishes she could tell him to dump Mel, to fucking whisk Abby away into the sunset. But she can’t do that. She’s not that shitty.

“I can’t,” Abby says. Her voice sounds far away. She stands, handing him her beer. “I have to go. Tell Nora I’m headed back to our room for me?”

“Abby, come on,” Owen stands, but Abby is off, hopping over the porch railing and jogging into the night.

* * *

Abby strikes Manny’s left hand, grunting with the force she puts behind it. Manny flashes up his other hand, and Abby crosses with her right.

_Pregnant._

“Fucker,” Abby whispers, jabbing with her left hand. If Manny hears her, he has the good courtesy to ignore it. Hook, jab, cross. Hook, jab, cross. The sequence is repetitive, hypnotizing. It helps ground her. There's music blasting, that cheesy song from _Rocky III._ It was probably Danny's tape, he was always playing the most mainstream and cheesy bullshit.

Ever since the party two nights ago, she’s been in a foul mood. It feels like just another way that someone in her life has let her down. Of course, it’s not the first time Owen has proven that he can’t be trusted, that he’s a bit of a snake, but this feels so much worse than anything he’s done before.

She fluffs the next punch, her hand slipping off the inside of the pad and landing hard on Manny’s shoulder. Her weight shifts too quickly and she stumbles forward.

“Hey, watch it,” Manny says, catching her and helping her right herself. “Focus up, Abby.”

“Sorry,” she says, stepping out of his grip and wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her glove. “I’m out of it.”

“Yeah, I see that,” Manny says. “Water break, c’mon.” Abby follows him to the water cooler that stands in the corner furthest from the ring. She accepts the little paper cup that he hands her, drinking it swiftly and crushing the cup in her hand.

“Owen got Mel pregnant,” Abby mumbles. Manny’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, and he sputters a bit, choking on the water he just sipped.

“ _Dios mio_ ,” Manny says, coughing. “That’s fuckin’ crazy.”

“Yeah.” Abby leans back against the wall.

“You okay?” Manny looks at her, and she doesn’t love the pity in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fan-fucking-tastic,” Abby scoffs. Manny chuckles, leaning up beside her.

“You gotta get over that guy,” Manny says, stroking his beard.

Abby rolls her eyes. “Thanks, that’s really helpful.” She taps the ends of her gloves together in a rhythmic pattern.

“Well, is he gonna marry her?”

Abby looks down at her feet, her heart squeezing. “I don’t know.”

“But she’s keeping it?”

“Yes, Manny,” Abby sighs, “she’s keeping it.”

“Owen’s a traditional guy, Abs,” Manny says. Abby sighs and tilts her head back, staring at the popcorn ceiling. “Look, all I’m saying is that there’s no point hanging on to whatever hope it is you’re gripping so tight.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Abby laughs, and she purses her lips, trying to bite back the tears she feels welling hotly in her eyes. “It’s been _three_ years and I still just want…I just…” She trails off and blows out a shaky breath. “I’m trying.”

“Okay,” Manny says, “if you say you’re trying, then you’re trying.”

“I’m trying.” Abby wants to punch the stupid little knowing look right off her friend’s face. “Come on, I could use a spar.”

Manny chuckles, “With this much on your mind? Easy target, _chica_.” They walk over to the sparring mats, and Manny pulls on some gloves. Abby bounces on her toes, stretching out her neck and rolling her shoulders.

“No face shots,” Abby reminds him. It’s more for herself, but Manny nods.

“If I could just say one more thing,” he starts.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Abby grumbles.

“There’s an old saying,” Manny says, and they square up, “it goes like this: if you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it was always yours.”

Abby rolls her eyes. “Fuck you. You really need to stop reading _Cosmo_.”

“But where else will I learn the top ten ways to please my man?”

* * *

“I would die happy if I could get horizontal with Tom Selleck,” Leah sighs.

Abby laughs, looking at the TV in the student lounge and seeing Tom Selleck in his signature Hawaiian shirt, crouched over some dead body. “You don’t mind the moustache?”

“Mind?” Leah shakes her head. “I think it’s majorly hot.”

“It’s grody,” Nora pipes in. “What if it got in your mouth when you were making out?”

“I wouldn’t give a shit,” Leah says, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, “I’d be too busy thinking _holy shit I’m necking Tom Selleck._ ”

“Okay,” Abby says, “I’m over this conversation. And I’m bored. It’s Friday, and we’re sitting here watching Magnum. When did we get so lame?”

“Uh, when we decided it would be too much effort to go out,” Nora reminds her. “Besides, where are we gonna go? I’m sick of the arcade.”

“Because you suck at every game there,” Abby retorts, “that’s why you’re sick of it.”

Nora sits up from her slouched position on the couch. “I do not suck at every game.”

“ _Pac-man_ , _Space Invaders_ ,” Leah starts listing, “ _Donkey Kong, Dig_ _Dug_ \- ,”

“Fuck you,” Nora cuts her off, grabbing a throw pillow and whacking Leah with it. Leah squeaks as it hits her face, lunging across Abby to grab another pillow and chuck it at Nora.

Abby shoves Leah off of her, standing up from the couch. “Come on. Can we at least do something other than listen to Leah cream her pants over Tom Selleck?”

“Fine,” Nora says, “fine, we’ll go to that stupid arcade and do the same stupid shit we do every Friday night. You want to invite the boys?”

“I’m mad at Jordan right now,” Leah says, “he keeps ‘forgetting’ condoms.”

Abby and Nora lock eyes, and Abby sees her exasperation reflected in Nora’s. “Right,” Abby says, drawing the word out, “well, I guess that settles it. No boys.”

* * *

The arcade is as busy as every other Friday night. Abby shoulders her way through crowds of high schoolers and pre-teens, going to claim the next game on the _Tron_ machine. Leah and Nora peeled off to grad some food and make change for quarters. Abby hasn’t seen Ellie Williams yet, but she knows at some point she’ll show up and try to make trouble.

Abby doesn’t remember what started the whole feud. She just remembers that one day, they hated each other. Maybe they’ve always hated each other, she can’t remember a time when they didn’t. Abby’s been in Jackson for three years; hardly long enough to make a mortal enemy, one would think.

There are two kids at the _Tron_ machine. The taller one looks about fifteen, maybe sixteen. Her jacket has one sleeve tied in a knot and her hair is braided back. The other is a boy, younger, with his head shaved almost right to the skin. They’re arguing, the boy trying to elbow his way to the controls.

“Yara, let me play!” The girl stands her ground, turning her body to block the boy.

“Can you stop?” The girl, Yara, says. The boy huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Dipstick.”

Abby smirks at the childish insult, and she stands a couple of feet behind them. “You guys almost done?”

The boy looks at her, his eyes growing wide. Abby knows she cuts an imposing figure. She’s got broad shoulders and arms like pythons, years of physical training that reads like text on her skin. Abby gives him a small smile; it’s not her intention to scare kids. Well, not right now. Sometimes they really deserve it.

“I’m after my sister,” the boy says.

“Cool,” Abby says. “Mind if I go after you?”

The boy looks her up and down, narrowing his eyes. Abby works hard to not laugh at the serious look on his face. “Fine,” he says.

“Can you guys shut up?” Yara says from the controls. Abby peers over her shoulder. The girl only has one hand on the controls, playing the light trail levels. 

“You’re pretty good,” Abby says.

“I know,” Yara says, “because I’m focused.”

Abby likes these kids. She watches Yara play a few more successful rounds before stepping aside. She balks a little at Abby’s appearance, clearly not expecting to see such a tank of a person behind her.

“Okay, Lev,” Yara says, “go for it.” Her and her brother switch places, and Yara stands beside Abby. Lev eagerly jams his quarter into the machine.

“I’m Abby,” Abby introduces herself, extending her hand to Yara.

“Yara,” she replies, taking Abby’s hand and shaking it. Her hand is small and thin, being swallowed by Abby’s strong one. “That’s Lev.”

“You guys play this a lot?”

Yara shrugs. “Sometimes. We only come here occasionally.” Something about her voice and the way she says it piques Abby’s curiosity. What kids don’t want to be at the arcade all the time?

“You’re pretty good at it for ‘occasionally’,” Abby comments.

“Thanks,” Yara says. Lev is busy shooting enemy tanks, his posture the picture of concentration. “He really likes coming here. I wish I could bring him more often.”

“Isn’t he old enough to come on his own?” Abby asks.

Yara shrugs. “My mom doesn’t like it when he goes out alone.”

“Over-protective parents,” Abby says, nodding her head, “I get that.”

“Sure.”

Lev gets the game over screen, and he groans, tossing his head back. “Dang it.” He roots around in his pockets. “Yara, do you have any more quarters?”

“No,” Yara says, “besides, your turn is over. C’mon, let’s go.”

“Hey,” Abby reaches into her pocket, “here, I have some quarters left.” She pulls out a few quarters, maybe a dollar-fifty, and holds it out to Lev.

His eyes widen, and he looks to Yara. “Can I?”

Yara hesitates, pursing her lips. Abby smiles. “It’s fine, really. I have more than enough for myself.”

Lev reaches out and takes the coins, smiling like Abby just gave him a million bucks instead of less than two. He jams a coin into the machine with unrestrained eagerness, and starts up another round.

“Thank you,” Yara says, “you really didn’t need to - ,”

“I know,” Abby interrupts, “but I wanted to. Hey, I’m going to get some food, you guys want anything?”

“No, thank you,” Yara says, giving Abby a small smile.

“Alright, well,” Abby returns the smile, “have a good night.”

Making her way to the concession counter, Abby sees Nora sitting in the _Pole Position_ cockpit, her brow furrowed in concentration while Leah trash-talks her. From here she can make out the big shoulders of Nora’s blazer poking out from the sides of the cockpit. It’s kind of hilarious, and Abby nearly bumps into a big dude with a big soda, distracted by her friends’ antics. She apologises, sliding by him and standing in the line. She can see Ellie Williams behind the counter, the usual disinterested look on her face as she hands fries off to a couple of pre-teens.

“Fuck,” Abby whispers, not looking to get into any sort of altercation tonight. From here, it’s hard to make out the fading bruises under Ellie’s eyes and the split in her lip, but not impossible. Jordan really did a number on her, and Abby can’t help the small smirk that crosses her lips. What Jordan did was dirty, but she can’t say that Ellie didn’t have it coming. Most people have enough common sense to not fuck with any members of the boxing team, let alone the one guy who’s known for being a bit of a psycho. Jordan’s volatile nature is not a secret by any stretch of the word.

When she reaches the front of the line, Ellie looks up and immediately glares at her.

“Can I get some fries?” Abby asks. Ellie doesn’t answer, but Abby notices her touching the bruises as she scoops the fries.

“Looks like you’re down a few fanboys,” Ellie says, tossing the small cardboard carton down on the counter and nodding at where Nora and Leah are squabbling. “Jordan too scared to show his face?”

“It looks better than yours,” Abby snaps back. “Feel free to bag it any time.” Abby chucks a couple dollar bills on the counter and takes the fries. Ellie grabs them and shoves them in the cash box. She looks like she’s going to say something, and then someone speaks up from behind Abby.

“Everything cool over here?”

It’s that tall Asian guy, Jack? Jeremiah? Whatever. Abby looks him up and down, grimacing at the mullet and slouch socks he’s sporting, his shirt unbuttoned low enough that she can see his sternum.

 _What a fuckin’ poser_.

“Yeah,” Abby says, not breaking the staring the contest her and Ellie are having, “it’s cool.” Abby pops a fry into her mouth. “Thanks for the fries.” She smirks at Ellie, who looks like she wants to lunge over the counter and wrap her skinny hands around Abby’s neck.

James steps between the two of them, his eyes flashing between them like they’re going to start fighting any second. Abby walks away backwards for a few steps, maybe just a little part of her daring Ellie to make a move. She isn’t looking to start a fight, but she’s always ready to finish one.

She reaches Nora and Leah, the latter happily taking some of her fries.

“Saw you talking to Williams,” Nora says, “she try anything?”

“Wouldn’t matter if she did,” Abby answers with a shrug. “She doesn’t scare me.”

“She doesn’t scare me, either,” Nora says, “but she _is_ the one making our food.”

Leah looks at the fry she’s got in her hand and carefully puts it back. “Great. Thanks for pointing that out, Nora.”

“Calm down,” Abby says with a laugh, “she’s harmless. She’s like a blackfly; sure, she bites, but a little bit of calamine lotion and it stops bothering you at all.” Abby tosses a fry into her mouth and grins at her friends. “Come on. I’ve got a pocket full of change and I want to watch Nora bomb at _Dig Dug_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I challenged myself with this, and I hope it came out fine. I enjoyed puzzling out Abby's perspective, and I hope you guys enjoyed the little shift it gave. Format will probably be 2 Ellie, 1 Abby, rinse repeat. 
> 
> HUGE shout-out to my buddy ehefic (ehekic on tumblr) for their help with this chapter, from listening to me rant about trying to write a straight girl, to sending me the world's longest link to some really good 80's fashion refs. 
> 
> Thank you all for your comments, your kudos, and your support. It means a lot to me! I have fun stuff planned for this, and it's great to know you're all along with me.


	4. Ellie / i find it hard to tell you 'cause i find it hard to take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie's got a few things on her mind, and they're all Dina. 
> 
> Chapter title from "Mad World' by Tears for Fears (I had to, it's a classic)

Ellie loves working on Wednesdays. No one comes in on Wednesdays, and it gives Ellie time to play her favourite games using the coins she collects from other machines during the hours before opening. Wednesday is also the only night that Marlene lets one person work alone, and Ellie has her name down for that shift every week. She likes her coworkers well enough, but she prefers the freedom of not having to watch Sam and make sure he doesn’t screw up, or having that annoying rule-following girl, Bonnie, peering over her shoulders and complaining when she cuts corners. And she especially hates working with Greg. Greg thinks women are too fragile to play video games. Greg deserves a swift kick in the nuts, and then he’ll see just how _fragile_ women are.

By five pm, the arcade’s been open for a few hours and no one has come in. Ellie is busy at the _Dragon’s Lair_ machine. It’s a newer game, and it uses really cool LaserDisc technology that Ellie can’t get enough of. It’s a game with a story, and it’s a big change in the whole video game industry. Ellie’s read a bunch of articles on it, and how it will be the next step in all games. Narrative and movie-like graphics. Jesse had thought that sounded too “Jetson Family”, but Ellie has read tons of articles in _Play Meter, Replay_ , and a dozen other publications that support her.

She hears the squeak of the front door open, and she sighs. “Can’t people just stay out,” she mumbles. Her quarter going to waste, she turns to begrudgingly greet whoever just interrupted her.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Ellie groans when she sees who it is.

“Don’t be a shithead,” Cat says. She’s got the same old leather jacket on over a black t-shirt with some metal-band’s logo on it. Her pants are leather, too, tight and tucked into heavy motorcycle boots. She’s the perfect picture of a small-town punk.

“You just bring it out in me,” Ellie grumbles. Cat smirks and walks over to Ellie. She stops a few feet in front of the taller girl, flicking her long bangs out of her face. “What do you want, Cat?”

“Can’t a girl go to the arcade anymore without getting the third degree?” Cat says, and Ellie rolls her eyes. “Fine. Would you believe I just wanted to check on you?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Ellie says, leaning back on the machine and crossing her arms.

“I heard about your impromptu match with that psycho college kid,” Cat says, stepping into Ellie’s personal space. Her eyes scan Ellie’s face, and Ellie has to resist the urge to reach up and touch the light bruising that still sits on her left cheekbone. “You want me to fuck him up?”

Ellie scoffs. “Please. I don’t need your help. I’m perfectly capable of fucking people up for myself.”

It’s Cat’s turn to scoff at Ellie. “Right, you really showed him, huh?” Cat matches her stance, and they stare at each other until Ellie has to look away. “That’s what I thought.”

“Can I help you with something?” Ellie says. “Because if you’re not here to play a game or get a snack, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” She pushes off of the _Dragon’s Lair_ machine and brushes by Cat. She smells like cigarettes, unsurprisingly.

“You’re not very welcoming to your patrons,” Cat says, following Ellie to the concession counter.

“What do you _want_ , Cat?” Ellie sighs.

“You know what I want,” Cat says. “Why else do I bother talking to you?”

“I’m working,” Ellie says, wishing her cheeks didn’t feel so flushed. “Besides, I really think we should stop doing…that. I’m done with that.”

“You’re tired of me already?” Cat fakes a pout, and Ellie rolls her eyes.

“No,” she says, “I just…I dunno. What’s the point?”

“Orgasms,” Cat answers bluntly. “That’s the point. If it makes it more appealing, you can think of it as either a rage against The Man, or as practice for when you finally grow a pair and do the nasty with Dina.”

“I don’t – that’s not - ,” Ellie stutters, and Cat gives her a look that says she clearly won’t believe anything Ellie says on the matter. Ellie stops and huffs. “Maybe I’m just not interested in _fucking_ you anymore.”

“Oh, now you’ve hurt my feelings,” Cat says, and it’s like everything that leaves her mouth is meant to annoy the crap out of Ellie. “If I had it my way, I’d find someone new. But you know what I like and, in a town this small, my options are pretty fuckin’ limited.” When Ellie doesn’t react, Cat groans and shoves Ellie’s shoulder. “Come on, Ellie. Having sex with me can’t possibly be the worst way to spend an evening.”

“I’m working,” Ellie repeats. The silence of the empty arcade speaks for itself. Cat looks around them, and she laughs.

“Yeah, busy night,” she says. “Call that little nerd kid with the tall hair, I’m sure he’d be happy to fill in for you if you’re not…feeling good.” She tugs at the collar of Ellie’s blue overshirt, smoothing out the shoulders.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Ellie says.

“Yeah, I know,” Cat says with a nod. Ellie reaches over the counter and pulls the phone towards her. She dials up Sam’s home number.

As it rings, she looks at Cat and it feels like her heart is shaking its head. Cat gives her a half-smile, and it hurts in all the right ways.

***

Ellie flops down on the bed, catching her breath. Beside her, Cat is smiling like the cat that caught the canary.

“I’m done with this, Cat,” she says in a weak imitation of Ellie’s voice, “I don’t want to keep doing this. We’re done, Cat.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie breathes, “just shut the fuck up. I like you better when you’re not talking.”

“That’s so sweet,” Cat croons, propping her head up on her hand. Her other hand’s fingers dance on Ellie’s stomach. “Gross bruise.”

“You should see the other guy,” Ellie mutters. She shuts her eyes and tries to ignore the smell of cigarette smoke that clings to Cat’s room.

“Okay there, Rocky,” Cat snorts. She sits up, grabbing a cigarette from her bedside table and lighting it. She offers one to Ellie, who turns it down. “Square.”

“Fuck off,” Ellie grunts. She stands from the bed grabbing her clothes from the floor, ignoring the way Cat’s eyes burn into her back.

“So,” Cat says, and Ellie wishes she would just shut up and let Ellie leave in peace, “you gonna call me in the morning?”

Ellie scoffs, “In your dreams.” She pulls her shirt on and turns, looking at Cat. Her eyes trace the tattoos that line Cat’s arms and shoulders, the way her inky hair hangs uneven and messy with the few steaks of blood red. It’s easy to remember why Ellie fell so fast for her - she’s danger in a leather jacket, bad decisions personified.

Ellie’s always liked bad decisions.

“I never really took you for the hit it and quit it kind of girl,” Cat says. She takes a long drag and Ellie scrunches her nose as the exhale sends smoke into her face. “You were always such a romantic.”

“Yeah, well,” Ellie shrugs, “I guess that’s what you did to me. Not a romantic bone left in my body after you.”

“Jesus fuck, stop acting like we’re strangers on the bus,” Cat laughs, “I know you pretty well, Ellie Williams. And I haven’t forgotten why we broke up.”

“Oh yeah?” Ellie pulls her shoes on and walks to the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she looks over her shoulder at her ex-girlfriend. “I have.”

“Wow,” Cat says, “very dramatic. I’ll really be thinking about that for the rest of my life.” Cat takes a drag and blows out a steady stream of hazy smoke. Ellie wrinkles her nose at the smell that drifts across the small room.

“If you have something you want to say, just say it,” Ellie says with a sigh, leaning back against the door.

“No, I don’t think I will,” Cat says with a smirk that is far too self-satisfied.

“Fine,” Ellie says. “I’m definitely done now.” She opens the door and heads through a narrow hallway to the shared kitchen. Cat’s roommates are lounging around the small TV, and Ellie doesn’t miss the paraphernalia that’s scattered on the coffee table.

“Yo,” a skinny guy with an unevenly shaved head says, “Cat still in there?”

Ellie opens her arms and looks around. “Clearly she’s not out here, wastoid.” The guy nods slow, and Ellie does _not_ like the way he’s rubbing at his arm. “Jesus Christ, I’m out of here.” Ellie storms by them and leaves the dank apartment. The fresh air is the greatest relief she’s ever felt. Cat’s apartment always makes Ellie feel suffocated, it makes her feel like she’s in an apartment made up to be the physical manifestation of human despair. 

When she gets home, the porch light is on and there’s someone on her front steps. As she gets closer, the figure stands up and raises a hand in greeting. It’s Dina. What the hell is Dina doing here?

“Hey,” Dina says with a smile. Ellie stops in front of the steps, Dina standing taller than her on the second step up.

“Hi,” Ellie greets, “what are you doing here?”

“I stopped by the arcade,” Dina says, “Sam said you called him in because you weren’t feeling well. So, I thought I’d come see you.”

“Oh, right,” Ellie shoves her hands into her pockets. “Yeah, I went for a…walk.”

“Long walk,” Dina says.

“I’m a very fit person.”

Dina laughs, and her smile is brighter than any of the stars. Ellie feels weak just looking at her.

“Are you feeling better?” Dina asks, and she steps down a step. Her hand lifts and presses to Ellie’s forehead, checking for a fever. Her hand is really soft, and Ellie’s heart flutters at the touch.

“Yeah,” Ellie says, and it’s not totally a lie, “yeah, I feel better.”

“Good,” Dina says, and it’s like she can’t stop making Ellie melt with the soft smile she offers. Her hand slides down the side of Ellie’s face, tucking stray hair behind Ellie’s ear. The wind blows and Ellie sees Dina shiver.

“Hey, let’s get inside,” Ellie says. The door opens with the familiar creak, and Ellie brings Dina up to her room. Thankfully, Joel is already in bed, his door shut and his light off. Dina lounges back on Ellie’s bed, grabbing a blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapping it around her shoulders. Ellie changes quickly, pulling on some soft shorts and a sweatshirt.

“You got an extra sweater?” Dina asks. Ellie nods, grabbing a grey hoodie and tossing it at Dina. She pulls off her current shirt (it’s tight but with hardly any back, and Ellie doesn’t get why Dina dresses like she’s going to get recruited by Vogue, but she also can’t complain) and tugs the sweater on, messing up her expertly tousled hair. To Ellie’s dismay (read: she really wishes Dina would keep her pants on so that Ellie wouldn’t feel like the world’s biggest pervert trying to keep her eyes off her friend’s legs), Dina wiggles out of the tight jeans she’s wearing. With red cheeks, Ellie grabs another pair of shorts and tosses them to her friend. Dina smirks, pulling them on over her legs. Ellie clears her throat, very purposefully not looking at how Dina’s calves flex as she raises her hips

“How long were you outside?” Ellie asks, sitting down at the end of the bed.

Dina shrugs, “A while.”

“Your desert blood is no match for Wyoming winds,” Ellie teases, and Dina sticks her tongue out at her. It’s unfairly cute.

“No making fun of me,” Dina says, “not unless you’re going to be honest about where you were tonight.”

Ellie groans. “I wasn’t anywhere.”

“Right, and _Happy Days_ is going to run for another five years,” Dina scoffs.

“Hey, the Fonz could really pull it together any day now,” Ellie says, shrugging with a little smirk.

“Ellie.”

“Dina.”

Dina grabs a pillow and throw it at Ellie, who catches it and squints at the other girl. Dina squints back, an undeclared staring contest. Ellie leans forward, raising an eyebrow as best she can. Dina has to stifle a snicker at that, and she leans in.

“You think you’re tough?” Dina challenges, pumping her eyebrows up and down.

“I could kick your ass,” Ellie says. Dina grins, and then she lunges, tackling Ellie and trying to hold her down. Ellie grunts, trying to free her arms and gain control. Dina is a lot stronger than she looks, and Ellie struggles to flip them over.

“Who’s tough now?” Dina says, and Ellie shivers at how close her voice is to her ear, how she can feel Dina’s breath on her skin. It sobers her up, it reminds her of all the lines that are being crossed, and she clears her throat.

“Dina,” she says, “get off.”

Dina’s arms loosen, and she sits up. “Sorry,” she says, and Ellie wishes she didn’t look so cute with her cheeks all flushed like that.

“It’s fine,” Ellie says, straightening out the collar of her sweatshirt.

“No, I shouldn’t have,” Dina says, “you’re probably still a bit sore from Jordan. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Yeah,” Ellie nods, thankful for Dina giving her the perfect excuse, “a bit tender, y’know?” They fall into silence, and something about it isn’t as comfortable as it usually is.

“Oh!” Dina breaks it, and Ellie looks at her. “Jesse _totally_ biffed it today. He was trying to show off how flexible his legs are since he started doing Jane Fonda, and he fell over backwards, ass over head.” Dina chuckles and Ellie smiles, imagining the sight. “Nothing funnier than a naked guy trying to stretch.”

Ellie’s stomach drops, and she has to fight to keep even a small smile on her lips. “Totally.” She tugs at her fingers. “So, you guys are back on?”

Dina shrugs. “I guess so, but we’re definitely not _together_ together. I like him, but…I don’t know.” She flops back onto Ellie’s pillows and lets out a big sigh. “I feel like he thinks we’re going to get married, just because we’re having sex.”

“Can’t imagine why he’d think that,” Ellie says, and Dina promptly slaps her knee.

“You better be kidding, Ellie,” Dina says with a glower.

“Jesus, chill out,” Ellie says, “I’m totally down with non-marriage-implying sex.” _That’s what I was doing not even an hour ago_. “Girl power.” Ellie pumps her fist, and she smiles when she sees Dina biting back a grin.

“I didn’t know you were so modern,” Dina says. She pokes Ellie with her toes, and Ellie squirms.

“I’m living in 1990, Dina,” Ellie says, “everyone else is stuck in ’83.”

“You’re so weird,” the other girl says, shaking her head.

“Yeah, so I’ve been told.” Ellie lies down beside Dina, folding her arms up underneath her head. Her elbow pokes into the side of Dina’s head, and Dina frowns at her. Grabbing Ellie’s arm, Dina pulls it straight and tucks it under her own head.

“Ellie?”

Ellie turns her head, looking at Dina. Her hair is spread wildly across the light blue pillowcase, biting her bottom lip.

“Yeah?”

“You were with Cat again, right?”

Ellie sighs. “Yeah, I was.”

Dina turns onto her side, her brow furrowing a little as she looks at Ellie. “Why do you keep seeing her?”

“I’ve been cursed with twenty-twenty vision,” Ellie tries to joke. Dina doesn’t smile, just keeps looking at her like she’s a sad puzzle. “I don’t know,” she sighs and stares up at the ceiling, “it’s…easy. I don’t want…I don’t want to be alone, you know?”

It feels too real, but when she looks back at Dina, she can see something familiar in Dina’s eyes, something she thinks she sees when she looks in the mirror.

“I hear that,” Dina says, soft and low. They look at each other a little longer, and Ellie feels like there are a million things she wishes she could say.

Instead, she breaks the gaze and looks up at the ceiling again. Her chest feels too tight, her insides twisting.

“Hey,” and Ellie feels Dina’s hand slide into hers, their fingers linking together, “you’re not alone, Ellie. As long as you’ll put up with me, I’ll always be around.” Dina’s squeezes her hand, and Ellie shuts her eyes.

“Thanks,” she croaks. The words are everything she’s wanted to hear from Dina, but her stomach feels lined with lead. She knows Dina means well, but she doesn’t want Dina to mean well. She wants…she doesn’t want to say what she wants. She’s terrified, embarrassed, too heartbroken to even think it.

“I’m wiped,” Dina says. Ellie hears her yawn and kick around the blankets until she pulls the covers over both of them. “You don’t mind if I just crash here?”

“Of course not,” Ellie says, sniffing and hoping it passes off as just an everyday sniffle, not one that pulls back tears. There’s a general shuffle as Dina turns off the lamp beside the bed, her hand still linked with Ellie’s.

“Don’t you dare drool on me again,” Dina warns.

“I do _not_ drool,” Ellie grumbles.

“It’s okay,” Dina says, yawning, “it’s cute.”

Ellie feels her cheeks flush, and she’s so grateful for the darkness that covers them. Dina yawns again, and soon enough her breathing evens out. Carefully, Ellie pulls her hand out of Dina’s and turns onto her side, facing away from her best friend. Her _best friend_. Ellie exhales slowly, her eyelids fluttering against the way her throat tightens. Dina sighs and Ellie feels her turn and press her face into Ellie’s back, a hand getting caught between their bodies. Cold toes press against Ellie’s calves, and the shivers they send up Ellie’s spine aren’t just from the cold.

“Fuck,” Ellie breathes. She’s totally screwed.

***

The next morning, Dina is gone. Ellie’s mouth is dry, and she really hopes Dina didn’t notice the small wet patch on her pillow. Wiping the corner of her mouth with the end of her sweater, Ellie stumbles her way to the bathroom. She takes a shower, the water hot enough to turn her skin red. Her bruises are almost all faded, except the one on her ribs. It doesn’t hurt anymore; it’s more like a decoration.

She gets dressed in some ratty black jeans, an equally ratty _Ramones_ t-shirt, and she towels her hair dry. The towel is tossed onto her bed in a lump, and she heads downstairs.

Dina and Joel are in the kitchen, sipping from mugs and chatting quietly. When they notice her, Joel looks down at the table, and Dina gives her a bright smile. She’s dressed in the same tight jeans as last night, but her shirt is one of Ellie’s, something with a smiling orange on it that’s a few sizes too big. She’s tucked it into the waistband of her jeans, and it’s unfair how pretty she looks.

“Good morning,” Dina says.

“Morning,” Ellie answers, and she gives Dina a look like ‘what the fuck are you doing talking to Joel you know I hate him’ and Dina responds with a look like ‘can you chill out’. And just like that, Ellie knows her day isn’t going to get any better.

“I should get goin’,” Joel says, pushing back from the table. “It was nice to see you again, Dina.”

“Yeah, you too,” Dina replies with her kind smile. “Have a good day!”

Joel smiles, and Ellie turns away, opening the fridge and pretending to hunt around in it. Once his footsteps fade down the hallway and the front door closes shut behind him, Ellie steps back and shuts the refrigerator door.

“What the fuck was that?” Ellie asks, voice low. She can feel the simmer of anger under her skin.

“You were still sleeping,” Dina says with a shrug, “what was I supposed to do? Ignore Joel in his own home?”

“Uh, duh,” Ellie says, and she waves her hands around. “You know I…you know he’s basically public enemy number one.”

“To _you_ ,” Dina says, walking by Ellie to put her mug in the sink, “to me he’s just Joel.” She turns and leans up against the counter. “Maybe if you actually _told_ me what was going on, I’d be more inclined to be a giant dick to him.”

Ellie huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “I told you. It’s complicated.”

Dina rolls her eyes and pushes off the counter, walking past Ellie into the hallway. Ellie follows her into the living room. Dina turns on the TV and adjusts the channel until the news comes on. Dina sits on the couch, and Ellie sighs.

“Dina,” Ellie tries to get her attention, but Dina stares resolutely at the screen where the anchor is busy talking.

“God, our president is such a blowhard,” Dina grumbles. “If we get nuked, we know who to blame.”

“ _Dina_ ,” Ellie tries again. Dina dramatically tilts her head and looks at Ellie. She doesn’t say anything, she just waits. Ellie’s feet shift, unable to stand still when she feels this scrutinized. “Look. It’s complicated, okay?”

“Yeah, you’ve said that already,” Dina says, rolling her eyes. She’s not smiling, she’s not teasing, and Ellie feels like shit.

“He lied, okay?” Ellie grips her left hand with her right, tugging on her fingers. “I found out he’s been lying to me for…for _years_.”

Dina stares at her, and Ellie feels like she’s being scanned for something, like Dina’s got x-ray vision into her soul. Ellie can’t hold her gaze anymore, and she looks down at her bare feet on the hardwood floor.

“Okay,” Dina says.

Ellie looks up. “Okay?”

“Well, I can tell that’s all I’m going to get out of you,” Dina says, and the sigh she gives is on the edge of exasperation. She pats the spot beside her and Ellie sits nervously, her posture unnaturally straight. “Maybe one day I’ll get you to trust me.”

“I do,” Ellie says, “I trust you.”

Dina looks at her, and whatever is in her eyes is unreadable. This time, Dina is the first to look away, her eyes drawn back to the television. “I have class in an hour.”

“I’ll drive you,” Ellie says, “but, is there any chance you can make me pancakes?”

She sees the corner of Dina’s mouth twitch up in a smile, and Ellie grins with her. “Fine,” Dina says, shaking her head, “I’ll make you pancakes.”

***

Ellie, Dina, and Jesse are sitting in the stock room again, Dina’s legs draped across Jesse’s lap. Ellie is mindlessly bouncing coins into a glass on the small table she’d brought in a few days ago. She’s found it on the side of the road, and after a good wipe-down, it looks good as new. Kind of.

“Ellie, are you listening?”

Ellie looks up from the table, shaking her head a little. “Uh, totally.”

Dina rolls her eyes. “Space cadet.” Jesse chuckles at that, his hand landing high on Dina’s thigh. Ellie’s knee starts bouncing.

“Dina wants to set you up with someone,” Jesse says, and Ellie groans.

“Please don’t,” she says. “No offence, Dina, but every time you want to set me up with someone it goes...how should I put this...completely fucking terribly.”

“Rude!” Dina gasps. “I have excellent taste. I know what you like.”

Ellie has to hold back laughter at that. Oh, if only Dina knew. “You really don’t.”

“Well, at least this time I can be sure she’s, y’know, batting for your team,” Dina says.

“That’s a good first step,” Jesse mumbles, catching Ellie’s eye and grinning.

“I met her in my women’s studies course,” Dina continues, ignoring the collective groan, “and she made it pretty clear that she was both single and speaking lavender.”

“No one says that,” Ellie jumps in, “and, just out of curiosity, how did you learn this information?”

“She sat next to me,” Dina starts, “and she introduced herself. We were chatting about women’s studies stuff, equality versus differential, that kind of stuff, and she mentioned a few times that she was recently single and starting to get back out there.”

Jesse and Ellie lock eyes and there’s a brief battle between who has to break the news.

Ellie loses.

“Did it ever occur to you that she was flirting with _you_?”

Dina’s brow furrows, opening her mouth to speak, then closing it again. She sits up and huffs. “Fuck.”

Jesse starts laughing, unable to hold it in anymore. “Damn, Dina. Can’t believe you missed that.”

“Well, I don’t know!” Dina protests, and Ellie can’t help but snicker at the way Dina’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead when she’s embarrassed. “How the fuck was I supposed to know she was flirting with me? I thought we were just getting to know each other!” When Ellie and Jesse just start laughing harder, Dina pulls her legs off of Jesse’s lap and crosses her arms over her chest. “You guys suck.”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Jesse tries to talk through his laughter, but it takes a few moments before he can continue. “Look, you’re right. Why would you know; you’re not into that.”

That sobers Ellie’s laughter pretty quickly, like an icy fist wrapping fingers around her heart.

“I guess so,” Dina says, “but it’s not like I’m opposed to it. I’m a modern woman, I believe in the sexual revolution.”

And that makes Ellie choke on her own spit, and she waves off her friends’ concerned looks.

“It’s cool,” Ellie croaks, “just went down the wrong way.” She clears her throat, standing up and pointing her thumb over her shoulder. “Beers?”

Jesse and Dina confirm, and she steps over the beanbag, walking to the industrial refrigerator that holds ingredients for the concession counter, and Ellie’s beer. It’s against the rules, but Marlene has never said anything to her about it, so Ellie hasn’t bothered to move it.

She tosses Jesse and Dina their beers, and she twists the lid open.

“I’m sure that girl would still be interested in you, Ellie,” Dina says.

“Can we just change the subject?” Ellie asks, and Jesse must see the discomfort in her eyes as she sits back down.

“Yeah, I’m bored of it already,” he says. Ellie gives him a grateful upturn up of her lips. “Dina, tell me more about revolutionary sex and how I can get in on that.”

Dina slaps his arm, and she looks at Ellie with a roll of her eyes like they’re sharing some secret, like “boys, aren’t they dumb”.

“Yeah, I want to hear more about that too,” Ellie says. “What kind of revolutionary sex positions are they teaching you in women’s studies?”

Ellie Ducks as Dina chucks the cap of her beer at her head, and their laughter fills the room.

The door to the stock room swings open and Bonnie steps in. She’s got the kind of face that looks like there’s always something unpleasant under her nose, with flat blonde hair and perfectly kept fingernails.

“Ellie, you’re not even working tonight,” Bonnie scolds as she grabs napkin refills from the shelf.

“Which is why I’m drinking,” Ellie says, and Dina and Jesse snicker into their beers.

“Does Marlene know you use the stock room as a personal drug den?” Bonnie crosses her arms over her chest, giving Dina’s bong a pointed glare where it sits as a proud centerpiece on the new table.

“I don’t know,” Ellie says, “does she know you’ve got a stick up your ass the size of the Empire State Building?” Bonnie’s cheeks flush and she whirls around, storming out the door and back onto the arcade floor.

“Bit harsh,” Jesse mumbles, and Ellie rolls her eyes.

“She sucks,” is her only defense. Dina nods in agreement, leaning forward and grabbing her bong. Ellie watches her pack the bowl neatly, her hands practiced and familiar with the process. For someone who spend so much time working hard at school and prides herself on her intellect, Dina smokes a lot of weed.

“Fuck her, then,” Dina says with a wicked grin. She lights the herb and takes a big hit, blowing the smoke out, up to the ceiling. She offers the drugs to Jesse and Ellie, who both decline. Ellie drove over today, and Jesse isn’t much of a smoker. It doesn’t bother Dina, and she just rips the bong again.

“Don’t you have a test tomorrow morning?” Jesse asks, raising an eyebrow at Dina as she puffs the smoke out in an attempt to make rings.

“Yeah, _tomorrow_ ,” Dina says, “not in five minutes. Calm down, _dad_.” Ellie snorts at that, and she has to really hold back laughter at Jesse’s offended expression.

“I’m just trying to look out for you,” he says. He frowns when Dina rolls her eyes at him, and Ellie starts feeling like she might be caught in the middle of something.

“Uh, so I got a new tape,” Ellie tries to interject herself into the conversation, trying to change its course away from where she knows it’s going to go.

“I don’t need you ‘looking out’ for me, Jesse,” Dina says, taking a pointedly large hit and blowing the smoke out at him. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

And there it is. Ellie huddles back into her beanbag, taking a long drink of her beer.

“Well, for someone who isn’t your boyfriend, I sure spend a lot of time doing boyfriend-related-things for you,” Jesse snaps back.

Dina rolls her eyes, putting the bong down on the table. The smell of marijuana has fully permeated the air now, and Ellie wishes she’d just taken the hit and walked home later so she wouldn’t have to be so conscious for the fight that’s about to happen.

Dina and Jesse have this fight every few weeks. Jesse’s a more traditional kind of guy, and he clearly has some amount of real feelings for Dina. Dina is…she’s Dina, Ellie guesses, and there’s two very conflicting sides to her that can never seem to compromise. She seems to want independence, to be a modern woman and own her own body in every way; and then there’s the other side, which Ellie has plainly seen is desperate for someone’s attention and their devotion, and for the comfort of knowing someone will be there.

So, in Ellie’s vast experience listening to her friends argue about their relationship (or lack thereof), she knows how this will go.

Dina says Jesse’s not her boyfriend. Jesse gets pissy about that. Dina will then say she never asked Jesse to act like her boyfriend, to which Jesse will reply that she doesn’t have to ask. Dina will say something like “if you can’t handle the modern parameters of our relationship, maybe you shouldn’t be in it,” and Jesse will say, “fine, see if I care,” and he’ll storm out.

Ellie braces herself for it, but it never comes. Tonight, Dina just sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Can we not fight about this, for once?” Dina asks. Jesse looks as surprised as Ellie feels.

“Uh, sure,” he says, looking to Ellie for some sort of guidance in this brand-new non-conflict scenario.

“Good,” Dina sighs, “I’m way too high already for that.”

Ah. Ellie hadn’t factored in the drugs. A simple mistake.

Jesse still doesn’t look relieved or impressed. If anything, he looks a little more annoyed with this new answer. “I’m going to take off,” he says, standing and straightening out his slacks. He looks at Ellie. “You’re going to get her home?”

“Sure,” Ellie says, knowing full-well that Dina will get herself home if need be. Jesse nods, and there’s a look he gives her that leaves her feeling like there’s a responsibility being settled on her shoulders.

“Alright,” he says, “have fun.” He steps around the shelf that partially blocks them off, and the door closes behind him.

Dina sighs and shuts her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall behind her.

“You good?” Ellie asks, watching her friend take a few deep breaths.

“Yeah,” Dina answers, slowly lifting her head and blinking her eyes open, “I’m good.” Her eyes are already a bit bloodshot, her pupils dilated as she looks at Ellie. “Just didn’t feel like arguing. It’s the same shit every time, I’m getting really sick of it.”

There are thousand things Ellie thinks she could say now. She could tell Dina to stop stringing Jesse along and either cut him loose, or grow a pair and commit if she actually likes him. Maybe now’s the time to remind Dina she has other options, that there’s a line-up of people who would kill to be in Jesse’s position. Maybe she could say that her name is in the hat.

Instead, she leans forward and pats Dina’s knee. “Do you want to go blow up some spaceships?”

Dina grins, lazy, her head tilting a little to the right. “I’d love to.” She tries to stand but loses her balance, tumbling back onto the beanbag. “You’re gonna have to help me up.”

Ellie stands and grabs Dina’s wrists, pulling her up to her feet and holding her until she feels steady. “Come on,” Ellie says, helping Dina step her way over the collection of shit and past the shelving. Dina squeezes Ellie’s hand in thanks, and Ellie feels the absence of Dina’s hand in hers like a hole in her heart.

“What are the odds you can get me some nachos?” Dina asks, leaning up by the door.

“With Bonnie watching me like a hawk?” Ellie shrugs. “I’ll try my best.”

Dina smiles, grabbing Ellie by the collar of her flannel shirt and pulling her in close. Ellie’s heart beats against her ribs, and Dina’s breath smells like weed and beer. It shouldn’t be enjoyable, but Ellie’s body reacts to the proximity before her brain does. Butterflies take flight in her stomach, her hands pressed to the wall on either side of Dina’s waist, holding herself up from the pressure of Dina’s heavy hands pulling her in.

“Have I told you that you’re amazing?” Dina breathes, and her hands slide over Ellie’s shoulders, fingers tickling the back of her neck. There’s only a couple of inches between them, Dina’s eyes impossibly wide and dark under the heavy eyeshadow that dusts her eyelids. Ellie feels like she can’t get enough air into her lungs.

“Tell me when I actually get you those nachos,” she mumbles. Her mouth feels dry, her words coming out choked and small. Dina chuckles, and Ellie swears she sees Dina’s eyes flit down to look at her lips. Dina hums, tilting her head and biting her bottom lip. Ellie can’t help the way her eyes follow the movement, entranced as Dina releases her lip and it pops back, red from the pressure of her teeth.

“Ellie,” Dina says, and Ellie looks at her, waiting for her to continue, “I’m baked.” A giggle breaks through Dina’s lips, and Ellie rolls her eyes.

“You’re _really_ high, aren’t you?” Ellie asks, and Dina just nods, dropping her head to Ellie’s shoulder as she keeps on laughing. Ellie can’t help but laugh a little with her friend. “Okay, hophead, come on. I’ll take you to a drive-thru or something, there’s no way you’ll be any help stealing nachos from Bonnie.”

Dina doesn’t protest, and she latches on to Ellie’s arm as she leads them out to her car in the parking lot.

Ellie buys Dina some greasy French fries and a milkshake, knowing that her favourite snack when she’s high is French fries dipped in milkshake. It’s abhorrent to Ellie, and she’s never seen a sober Dina eat it, but Dina thanks her with a sloppy kiss to the side of her face that makes it all worth it.

When she drops Dina off outside her dorm, Dina leans across the centre console and gives Ellie a hug, despite the awkward angle of it. Ellie breathes in the smell of Dina’s hairspray as she pats her on the back.

“You’re my favourite, Ellie Williams!” Dina calls out from the steps of her dormitory building. Ellie blushes, glad that no one can see her or is outside to witness this.

“Get some sleep, dumbass!” Ellie calls back. She waits until Dina is safely inside, then she leans over and rolls the passenger side window up. Taking a deep breath, Ellie leans her head back against the headrest of her seat. She turns the radio on and pulls out of the drive, tapping her foot along to _Earth, Wind, and Fire_. Hitting the main road, she cranks the volume and sings along with a dumb smile on her face.

_Hey hey hey  
Ba de ya, say do you remember?  
Ba de ya, dancing in September  
Ba de ya, never was a cloudy day…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like writing the dynamics between all these characters. They're all so messy. 
> 
> Thank you for all your kind comments, bookmarks, kudos, everything means so much to me!


	5. Ellie / you'll wind up like the wreck you hide behind that mask you use

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie has the best (and the worst) friends.
> 
> Title from Elton John's "I'm Still Standing"

Ellie gets to work on a Thursday night to a sight she always dreads seeing. Cat and Dina are sitting together at a table, a serving of fries sitting between them. Cat is grinning impishly, Dina’s head tossed back in laughter. Ellie bypasses dropping her backpack off in the store room, instead beelining for the two women.

“Ellie!” Dina greets her with a wide smile, grabbing her arm and pulling her onto the chair next to her.

“Hey,” Ellie says, ignoring the knowing look Cat is giving her, “what are you guys doing?”

“Talking,” Cat answers, and there’s nothing innocent about the arch of her brow or the tone of her voice.

“Cat still won’t tell me why you guys broke up,” Dina says. Her bottom lip sticks out a little, and Ellie really wishes Dina wasn’t so cute all the fucking time.

“I told you,” Cat says, “Ellie lost a bet over a game of _Pac-Man_.” She winks at Ellie, who groans and drops her head on the table.

“You told me literally five minutes ago that it was because you slept with Joel,” Dina says, and Ellie retches.

“Gag me with a spoon,” she says, lifting her head and kicking Cat under the table. Over Cat’s shoulder, she sees Greg at the concession stand giving her a nasty look. “Fuck me, Greg’s working?”

“You want me to fuck him up?” Cat teases, and Ellie flips her off.

“I want you to get out of my arcade,” Ellie grumbles, and Dina flicks her in the forehead. “Ow!”

“Go do your job,” Dina says. “Jesse’s coming by later, I have a surprise for the two of you.”

“Oh boy,” Ellie weakly feigns enthusiasm. “Don’t cause any trouble.” She looks pointedly at Cat as she says it.

Greg glares at her through his thick glasses as she hops over the counter. “You’re late.”

“You’re a dillweed,” she shoots back. “Have you done a game check yet?”

“No, because I was waiting for you to stop gossiping with your friends,” Greg snaps. “I’ll do it now.”

“No, _I’ll_ do it now,” Ellie corrects him, “because you’re shit at it.”

“I think you’re a little better suited to…manning the food,” Greg says, and Ellie wants to punch that sexist little smirk right off his face. She settles for stepping on his toe as she passes by, smirking to herself as he yelps.

The floor is pretty busy, mostly older kids whose parents can’t stop them from slacking off on a Thursday night. A kid in a _Pac-Man_ t-shirt asks Ellie for help, claiming the _Pac-_ Man (surprise) machine is broken.

The screen is stuck, flashing erratically. Ellie pulls the machine out from the wall and takes off the back panel, unplugging it and pulling out the circuit board. There’s a loose connection, and Ellie fiddles with it, cursing when it falls off completely.

“Sorry, kid,” she says, “it’s out of order.” The kid moans and stomps his foot, and Ellie rolls her eyes at his retreating figure. She disconnects the circuit board and carries it to the back. Greg watches her go with a clear “what the fuck” raise of his arms. Ellie flips him off and enters the small workshop off the store room.

She flicks the workbench light on and carefully places the PCB on the table. Her hands are steady as she cleans the board. Humming quietly to herself, Ellie fires up the soldering gun. It’s delicate work, and it’s not something that Ellie takes to naturally, but she’s done it enough times that the repair goes smoothly. With the ROM back in place, Ellie turns the light off and heads back to the floor to put the board back. She sees Dina still laughing with Cat; Cat’s got her hand on Dina’s arm as she says whatever lie she’s telling her, and Ellie clenches her free hand into a fist.

Cat’s doing it to get under her skin, Ellie knows that. That’s just what Cat does. She uses people as little pawns in the games she plays for her own amusement. Ellie’s been one of those pawns before, and she isn’t going to let Cat use Dina like that.

But, for now, she has to keep on walking and fix _Pac-Man_ before she’s mobbed by angry fourteen-year-olds. She drags her eyes away from her ex and her best friend just a second too late, and she collides with a solid body.

The PCB falls to the floor, and Ellie watches with dismay as it breaks on the floor.

“Watch where you’re going,” the body says, and Ellie looks up from the floor and meets Abby’s eyes.

“Watch where _you’re_ going,” Ellie snaps back, crouching down and picking up the pieces of the board. “Where’s the rest of the _Happy Days_ gang?”

“Jesus, you never turn it off, do you?” Abby scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest, the muscles in her biceps rippling threateningly. “Watch your step, Williams.” Abby steps over the mess of the board, her shoe knocking into Ellie’s hand.

Ellie’s on her feet in an instance, shoving Abby from behind. Abby stumbles and recovers, whirling around and squaring up to Ellie. She’s a bit shorter than Ellie, but every inch of her is muscle. There’s a reason she was the first girl to be allowed on the Jackson College boxing team.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Abby spits, and Ellie doesn’t waver.

“You fuckin’ kicked me, that’s my problem,” Ellie growls.

“You really want to be a victim, huh?” Abby looks Ellie up and down, her face stuck in a sneer.

Ellie’s anger is molten hot. Her hands clench and unclench into fists, short nails biting into the skin of palms. Before she can reply, someone comes up behind her and puts a hand on her back.

“Settle down, children,” Cat says, and she tugs Ellie back by the fabric of her shirt. Ellie shakes her off, and Cat very unsubtly positions her body just in front of Ellie’s. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Abby looks between the two of them, and Ellie can feel the judgement in her gaze. “You need your junkie girlfriend to fight your battles for you, Williams?”

“Watch who you’re calling her girlfriend,” Cat says, “there’s no need to insult me like that.”

“I don’t need anyone to fight my battles,” Ellie adds.

Abby snorts, and Ellie pictures her with bullhorns. It brings an ugly smile to her lips.

“I don’t fight townies,” Abby says, “this isn’t worth my time.” With that, she turns away and pushes her way through the crowd.

Cat lets out a low whistle and turns to Ellie. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Please,” Ellie scoffs, crouching down and picking up the bits of the PCB, “I can handle myself.”

“Sure,” Cat says, “that looked handled.” Cat looks at the mess of circuitry in Ellie’s hands. “And so does that.” She smirks and pats Ellie’s shoulder. “Have fun with that.”

“Fuck off,” Ellie says. She looks around, not seeing Dina. “What did you do with Dina?”

“I distracted her when I noticed you stepping to the She-Hulk,” Cat says. Ellie nods in thanks; the last thing she wants is Dina to be pissed off at her for picking fights again.

“I should go fix this,” Ellie says, lifting the broken PCB a little.

“Hey,” Cat stops her from walking away with a hand to her abdomen. Ellie looks down at her hand with disdain until Cat drops it. “These college kids aren’t a joke, Ellie. Stop fucking with them, or deal with the consequences.”

Ellie rolls her eyes, but the genuine warning in Cat’s eyes stops her from making a snarky remark. “I’ve got it handled,” she says instead, brushing past Cat and heading back to the workshop.

The board is a mess. Ellie organizes all the components, carefully laying them out.

“This is going to take a while,” Ellie groans.

“That’s not a winning attitude.” Ellie’s hand jumps to her chest, turning around and glaring at Dina.

“A little warning next time?” Ellie says, and Dina grins.

“But you’re so cute when you’re all startled,” she teases, walking over and peering over Ellie’s shoulder at the mess of circuitry on the table. “Yikes.”

Ellie’s heart skips at the way Dina’s hair tickles her cheek, the heady smell of her perfume infiltrating her nostrils.

“It’s an all-night kind of job,” Ellie comments, berating herself internally for how dumb that sounded.

“Hey, why don’t you let me give it a shot?” Dina rests her chin on Ellie’s shoulder, her warm breath gently blowing on the back of Ellie’s jaw.

“Um,” Ellie says intelligently, “do you know how to do this?”

Dina shrugs, reaching between Ellie’s arm and her waist to poke at the circuit board. “I’m an engineering major, Ellie. I can fix anything.” Ellie rolls her eyes at Dina’s cocky tone of voice.

“If you break _Pac-Man_ , every high-schooler in town will hunt you down,” she says, trying her very best to ignore how warm Dina’s body is where it presses against her back.

“I could take ‘em,” Dina says, soft and cocksure. Ellie smiles, stepping aside and gesturing for Dina to step up to the workbench.

“I have to go check on Greg,” Ellie says, “you sure you got this?”

“Get out of here and let me work,” Dina says, waving Ellie away and picking up some pliers. Ellie lingers in the doorway, admiring the bend of Dina’s back as she leans over the table. Ellie pats her hand against the doorframe as she backs out of the room, smiling down at her feet.

Her shift is business as usual from then on. She doesn’t catch sight of Abby or any of the other Wolves, but she does notice Cat lingering around the edges of the arcade. It’s irritating, and somewhat patronizing, but Ellie just ignores her. Cat’s going to do whatever she wants, there’s nothing Ellie can do about it. Jesse comes just as they’re starting to close up, and Ellie watches with amusement as Greg tries to tell him to leave. Jesse’s a chill dude, but he squares up to Greg (who is almost a whole head shorter) and scares him off with a sharp look.

“Dina’s in the back,” Ellie tells him. Jesse nods, heading off to the store room.

“Do you live here or something?” Greg says as they close up the concession counter. “Does Marlene know you and your pothead friends are using the back like your own personal hovel?”

“Who the fuck says hovel?” Ellie says, basking in the way Greg glares at her.

“This is why you only have two friends,” Greg says, snide.

“Oh, yeah, that’s really how to hurt me,” Ellie scoffs. “Get the fuck out of here, Greg.” Greg obliges, tossing his paper towels in the bin on his way out. Ellie finishes her close alone, enjoying the silence of the powered down arcade. With everything cleaned and put away, she heads on back to the store room.

Dina, Jesse, and Cat are all lounging on the beanbags. Ellie is not a fan of the way Cat keeps showing up tonight.

“Finally,” Dina says, “did you get rid of Greg?”

Ellie nods, sitting down between Dina and Cat, the latter’s knee digging into her thigh. “He sucks so much.”

Dina pats her knee sympathetically, “I know.”

“So, Dina, what’s the surprise?” Jesse asks. “I’m missing a business mixer for this.”

“Wow, what a shame,” Cat says, her grin wicked. Ellie punches her in the arm.

“Do you not have somewhere else to be?” Ellie snaps at her. Cat just blows a kiss in her direction.

Dina rummages around in her bag and pulls out a harvest-gold Tupperware. “Voila!”

“Tupperware,” Ellie says, “just what we’ve always wanted.”

“Asshole, it’s what’s _in_ the Tupperware,” Dina shoots back, placing the container on the round coffee table.

“Did you fix my _Pac-Man_?” Ellie asks, grabbing the Tupperware and shaking it.

“Well, it’s not any _more_ broken than it was,” Dina answers.

“She totally broke it worse,” Jesse pitches in. Dina rolls her eyes as she falls back against his outstretched arm. Ellie opens the container and furrows her brow.

“Brownies are the big surprise?” She asks. Cat leans in and the sickly smell of cigarettes washes over Ellie.

“Oh, I get it,” Cat snickers, “I didn’t know you had it in you, Dina.” Cat reaches in and grabs a brownie, taking a generous bite.

“What am I missing?” Jesse asks.

“Dina put pot in the brownies,” Ellie sighs. Dina grins, and Jesse groans.

“Where did you find an oven to make these?” He asks, catching the brownie that Ellie tosses at him.

“I went by Eugene’s,” Dina answers simply.

“He’s such a responsible adult,” Ellie says with a snort. She tosses Dina a brownie and grabs one for herself. She gives it a sniff, and she’s not able to smell anything funky about it. Taking a careful bite, Ellie nods at how surprisingly normal it tastes. “This is actually really good.” She polishes off the brownie and reaches for another. Cat slaps her hand away.

“Slow down there, cowboy,” she says, “you’re going to want to take it one brownie at a time.”

And Cat is absolutely right; half an hour later, Ellie’s body has sunk heavily into the beanbag underneath her. Everything feels heavy, and there’s a sparkle to the air. Dina is draped across Jesse, her fingers running through his hair repeatedly. Cat’s got her boots up in the air, her head at the bottom of the beanbag.

They’re all nicely baked.

“Is having sex with a girl better?”

Ellie chokes on her own spit at Dina’s question. “What the fuck?” Her voice sounds like liquid.

“Well, like, you guys keep fucking each other,” Dina says, waving her hand lazily at Cat and Ellie, “is it like, better because you both have vaginas?”

Cat bursts out laughing, her legs falling against the beanbag with a dull thud. “Fuckin’ straight people.”

“I hate this,” Ellie mumbles, “this is hell.”

“Dina, Dina,” Cat starts, trying to right herself and failing miserably, “is our man over there not meeting your needs? I’m sure Ellie would be happy to -,”

“To have you shut the fuck up,” Ellie interrupts, making a great effort to lift her arm and take a swing at Cat’s legs. She misses.

“Here’s the thing,” Cat continues, “men? They don’t understand the whole _foreplay_ thing.” Jesse tries to protest, and Cat waves him off. “Shut up, shut up. It’s just the truth.” She wriggles around, finally sitting upright, her hair sticking up in every direction. “All men are having sex for is themselves, y’know? Like, it’s about their dick. Getting in wherever it can.”

“I’m extremely uncomfortable, if anyone cares,” Ellie pipes up, and Jesse seconds the sentiment. Dina shushes them, sitting up and leaning in as Cat starts making some very crude hand gestures. Ellie tunes them out, staring up at the ceiling and desperately trying to find some undiscovered power of teleportation that’s been hibernating inside of her.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Dina says, grabbing Ellie’s attention and her ankle, “you do that?”

“What?” Ellie blinks, looking between Dina and Cat. Cat is laughing at her, and Dina looks…flushed. “What do I do?”

Dina uses her free hand to smack Jesse in the chest. “I _told_ you it wasn’t weird to do that.”

“Agree to disagree,” Jesse mumbles, “I stand by the ick factor.”

“Well, grow the fuck up and eat your girlfriend out,” Cat says, and Ellie wishes the floor would open up and swallow her.

“Not my girlfriend,” Jesse says at the same time Dina says, “Not his girlfriend.”

“Why the fuck are we talking about this?” Ellie groans, covering her face with her hands.

“You should be happy, I was telling Dina how good you are with your tongue,” Cat says.

“From what I can tell, you should be proud,” Dina says, waggling her eyebrows at Ellie.

“Cat, you’re not allowed to hang out here anymore,” Ellie grumbles from behind her hands.

“I do need a smoke,” Cat says, unsteadily rising to her feet, “and I should get home.” She grabs her leather jacket from the floor and pulls it on. “You three kids stay out of trouble.” Ruffling Ellie’s hair as she climbs over her, Cat leaves the corner of the store room and slams the door shut behind her.

“I like her a lot more now that you two aren’t dating,” Dina says, and Ellie groans.

“I hate both of you.”

Dina laughs and crawls over to Ellie, sitting in her lap. “You’re easy to embarrass.” Ellie lowers her hands and her chest squeezes at how close Dina’s eyes are.

“I hate you,” Ellie reiterates. Dina rolls her eyes, leaning in until their noses touch. Her breath smells like chocolate.

“You love me.”

_Yes._

“Nope,” Ellie says, clearing her throat and trying to lean back, “nope, you’re not my type.”

“I’m everyone’s type!” Dina exclaims, leaning back with an affronted look on her face. “I’m the _Galaga_ of people, the – the _Beatles_ of humans beings!”

“I actually don’t really like the Beatles,” Jesse says. Dina shushes him and keeps her glare on Ellie.

“Prove it,” Dina says.

“Prove that you’re not my type?” Ellie laughs nervously. “Uh, okay. You’re not my type. I have that on good authority.”

“Okay, well,” Dina squirms around, and Ellie wishes she would get off her lap so that the risk of spontaneous combustion could be lowered, “I still don’t believe you. I’m fine as hell, right, Jesse?”

Jesse looks at them and shrugs. “Meh.” Dina gasps, leaping off Ellie’s lap and tackling Jesse.

“You take that back!” She pokes him in the ribs, jabbing until he cries out for mercy through his laughter.

“Okay, okay!” Ellie watches as Jesse surrenders, his smile uneven and cheeks flushed. “Damn, Dina. You’re everyone’s type, okay?”

“Ha!” Dina flops off of Jesse, sort of half-hanging off the beanbag. “See, Ellie? You just won’t admit that you think I’m foxy.”

“First of all, I would literally never say that _anything_ is foxy,” Ellie scoffs, “and secondly…secondly...” She trails off, staring at the wall opposite her. “I forgot what I was going to say.” She starts laughing, and it spreads to Jesse and Dina, the three of them laughing so hard they forget what they even started laughing about.

***

Ellie’s fist slams hard against the punching bag. Sweat runs down the back of her neck, and she breathes hard, bouncing on her toes. Gritting her teeth, she brings her other fist forward, the bag swinging back a little.

Her day had started out nice and shitty with a big blow-out. She doesn’t even remember what set her off, but by nine am she was yelling at Joel. In a rare occurrence, he had actually yelled back. The fight had devolved quickly into yelling about “living under my roof” and “fuck your roof”, and somehow Ellie had ended up packing a bag and storming out. She’d driven to the campus, but as she stood outside Dina’s dorm, her feet had turned cold. Literally, and figuratively. Dina didn’t need her showing up with all her emotional and literal baggage. So, she’d turned tail and headed to the gym.

With her headphones on and Walkman tucked into the waistband of her shorts, Ellie had efficiently blocked out the world as she landed punch after punch. _Joy Division_ blasts in her ears, giving her anger food to grow from.

Stepping back from the bag, Ellie stretches her neck out and looks around. The gym has filled up since she arrived. Ellie walks over to the water cooler, filling up a little cup and taking a drink, leaning up against the wall.

A tall man walks up to her, his mouth moving. Ellie frowns, lifting her headphones.

“What?” She says, keeping her scowl on her face.

“You need to clear out,” the man says, “the boxing team has this space reserved for practice.” He’s wearing a polo shirt with the name ‘Dixon’ embroidered on the breast, sitting pretty above the Jackson College wolf emblem. Based on the matching cap he’s wearing, and the shorts that Ellie really wishes were a couple inches longer, she figures this guy must be the coach.

“I don’t really care,” Ellie answers. She crushes the little paper cup in her hand, tossing it into the garbage bin. “It’s a free country.”

“Not in my gym, it’s not,” Dixon says, “Tuesdays at eleven, the gym stops being a free country and it becomes Wolf country.”

Ellie snorts. There’s something infinitely amusing about a grown-ass man being so involved in college sports.

“You got something to say, punk?” Dixon says, his face forming a sneer.

“Nah,” Ellie says, but the anger is hot behind her eyes. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? “I’m good. Clearly you think your team needs all the practice they can get, and I have to agree with you.” Ellie pushes off the wall and brushes by the man. A few members of the team are standing by the ring and watching her with narrowed eyes. She gives them a salute, her lip curling at the sight of Jordan’s face. His really punchable face.

Abby is leaning over the ropes of the ring, watching her go. Ellie glares back, the hot fire in her chest burning her ribs.

“Yeah, keep on walkin’, bitch,” Jordan calls out. Ellie stops and turns. The rest of the team is snickering, Jordan looking pleased with himself.

“What did you say?” Ellie snaps, walking over to them.

“Keep walking,” Jordan repeats, his lip curling, “ _bitch_.”

“Creative,” Ellie snorts, “where did you learn that, _Cosmo_?” Jordan growls, but a tall guy with a beard holds him back by the arm.

“We don’t want to fight you,” the tall guy says, “just walk away.”

Ellie folds her arms across her chest. “What, now that your coach is here you’re too good to fight a townie?”

Speaking of the devil, their coach appears beside them with a stern look on his face. “We don’t have time for this. Get out, or I’ll make you leave.”

Ellie laughs. The thought of this middle-aged man trying to forcibly remove her is ridiculous, and an empty threat. “Okay, old man, I’d love to see you try.”

“What the fuck do you want, Williams?” Abby speaks up. Ellie hates that, hates being called by her last name. It’s a name that’s never truly been hers. “Just get out of my gym.”

“It’s _your_ gym now?” Ellie looks around the room, raising her arms. “I don’t see your fuckin’ name on it.” Abby rolls her eyes, and it just…it infuriates Ellie. Abby treats her like she’s a waste of time, like she’s a bit of dogshit on the bottom of her shoe. She thinks about the bag of her stuff in the backseat of her car, about the look on Joel’s face this morning as she yelled and blew out the door like a hurricane.

Her vision feels like it goes red.

“I’ll leave,” Ellie says, “if you can beat me.” She doesn’t wait for an answer, just grabs a pair of gloves and climbs into the ring. Her hands shake as she straps them on, her Walkman tossed to the side.

“What?” Abby laughs, turning to look at her.

“You heard me,” Ellie says. She fixes a resolute stare on Abby. “What, are you scared to get your ass kicked by a _townie_ in front of your friends?”

“I don’t have time for this shit,” Abby says.

“Coward,” Ellie spits.

Abby whirls around. “Watch your mouth.”

“Come on,” Ellie goads, “if you’re as good as they say, this should be a pretty quick match, right?” She bounces on her toes, lifting her hands in front of her face.

Abby looks at her coach, and he just shrugs. Ellie smirks, knowing he won’t stop his prize bull from showing off.

“Fine,” Abby says, stepping forward to the middle of the ring and holding out a glove, “let’s see how fast I can make you cry.” Ellie doesn’t come forward to tap gloves, just tilts her head side to side. Abby huffs and drops her glove, retreating to her corner. Her friends start jeering, encouraging Abby to make it quick. Abby gets her gloves tapped by all her teammates, and then she turns.

“Let’s do it,” Ellie mutters to herself. Abby pops in a mouthguard, and then they start squaring up.

It feels like a relief, to finally be fighting this fight. Ellie strikes first, trying to break Abby’s guard. Abby holds strong, luring Ellie to edge of the ring and then ducking out, Ellie’s momentum carrying her stumbling into the ropes. Ellie growls and rights herself, fixing her guard just in time to feel Abby’s fist collide with her forearms.

The hit feels like a wrecking ball. The muscles in Abby’s arms aren’t just for show, and Ellie staggers back. She braces herself for the next hit, absorbing the impact enough to keep her footing. She’s pressed against the ropes, and Ellie knows she has to move or get beat to a pulp here.

She drops to the ground and scrambles between Abby’s legs. Abby whirls around, a surprised look on her face. Ellie grins, realizing her only advantage will be that Abby fights like a robot. Ellie’s lacking in technique, strength, and training, but she’s scrappy as hell.

Ellie ducks under Abby’s next hit, and she lands a punch to Abby’s side. She hears the small grunt that leaves her opponent at the impact. Abby’s fist comes down on Ellie’s back, and the second of self-satisfaction Ellie had felt is quickly eclipsed by the shot of pain.

Falling to her knees, Ellie gasps for air. She rolls out of the way before Abby can strike again, getting to her feet weakly.

“C’mon, Abs,” someone calls from the sidelines, “hurry it up!”

Abby grins, every bit the wolf. Ellie grits her teeth and they come together in a torrent of short punches. They’re locked together, both girls grunting and growling as they land strikes on each other’s torsos.

Ellie can’t catch a breath, and her punches falter as Abby lands hit after hit. Every hit from Abby lands like being hit with a boulder, over and over again.

Ellie crumples, falling like a ragdoll onto the mat. Abby towers over her, stray hair falling from her braid.

“You had enough yet?” She asks, her chest rising heavily with each breath.

“Never,” Ellie gasps, struggling to stand. Her arm shakes as she pushes herself up, her guard weak as she holds her hands up. Abby rolls her eyes. Ellie growls, launching herself at Abby in a flurry of wild punches. Abby dodges easily, Ellie stumbling past her, carried by the swing of her follow-through.

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Abby says, “just give it up.”

Ellie shakes her head. “Never.” She attacks again, this time managing to land a blow to Abby’s gut. Abby bends at the hit, but her fist reacts just as quickly, a retaliatory hit knocking the breath from Ellie’s chest and sending her staggering back against the ropes.

“I’m done,” Abby says, looking Ellie up and down, “now get the fuck out.” She hops over the ropes beside Ellie, the ricochet from her movement shaking the ropes and causing Ellie to fall to her knees as she gasps for breath.

Ellie can hear the howls of the wolves behind her, the laughs. She gets to her feet and walks across the ring, ripping her gloves off and clutching her side. She gathers up her Walkman and slides under the ropes, trying to ignore the stares of the small crowd that had amassed. Her cheeks feel hot with shame, or embarrassment, or anger, she can’t tell. Head down, she goes to the locker room.

***

_Winter 1982_

“Joel, have you seen my license?”

Ellie roots around the drawers in the kitchen, trying to find her forever-misplaced driver’s license. Joel always does this, he tidies up and puts shit away where no one can ever find it again.

“Joel?” Ellie yells again, and there’s no answer. He must have gone out, and she huffs in frustration. One day, she’ll move out, and her organized mess will be perfectly in order without any old men around to fuck with it.

It’s not in the kitchen. Ellie stomps up the stairs. It hadn’t been in her room, the living room, the kitchen, the dining room, or the garage. Even though it’s unlikely, she pursues open the door to Joel’s study. It’s more of a workshop, but there’s a big bookcase and desk with a typewriter in it, so Joel calls it a study.

Ellie hums to herself as she looks around the surfaces, checking under a woodworking magazine and behind an unfinished cowboy sculpture.

“Big fat nothing,” Ellie mumbles. She heads to the desk next. The drawers are usually locked, full of bills and other shit like that, but she tries them anyways. Sometimes Joel cleans up and doesn’t give anything a second thought, just tossing things into drawers.

The bottom drawer opens, much to Ellie’s surprise. “Huh,” she says, her lips turning downwards and her eyebrows rising up. She rifles through a few papers, and she’s about to close the drawer when something catches her eye.

It’s her name, printed delicately on an envelope, partially obscured by brown twine.

“That’s weird,” she says to herself. She grabs it, pulling out a stack of envelopes. She stands up straight and stares at the top envelope. It’s addressed to her, at this address, with a few stamps on the top right corner.

The return address is printed, and Ellie has to read it twice to make sure she’s not imagining things.

“Denver Women’s Correctional Facility,” Ellie reads, her voice barely sounding. Her knuckles turn white, and it she feels a chill spread down the back of her neck.

When Joel gets home that night, Ellie is sitting at the dining room table, opened envelopes and unfolded papers spread across the dark wood. She doesn’t look at him as he walks in.

“Hey, kiddo,” he greets, his voice soft. Ellie heard him come up behind her, and her hands tighten their grip on the edges of the page she’s holding. “What’re you do -,”

“My dear Ellie,” she reads, “merry Christmas. I know Santa Claus is going to bring you so many presents this year; I can feel that you’ve been a good girl. I can’t believe another year has gone by without you. I still remember your first Christmas like it was yesterday. You were too young to know what was going on, but you had the biggest smile across your perfect face.” Ellie clears her throat. “I know that Joel is taking good care of you, but I miss you every day. The thought of one day seeing you again is what keeps me sane in here. I love you, my sweet girl. Your mother, Anna.”

“Ellie,” Joel starts, but Ellie slams her hands down in the table. She grabs another letter and starts reading again.

“Dearest Ellie, happy fifteenth birthday!” Her voice sounds a bit of hysterical, even to herself, but she pushes on. “I wish I knew what to send you, but I don’t think there’s anything in here you’d want. I wonder if you’re tall like your father, or if you’ll be short like me? I remember being fifteen; the world is yours, sweet girl. Take it. All my love, your mother, Anna.”

Joel doesn’t say anything this time. Ellie tosses the letter down on the table and her hands clench into fists. Joel pulls out the chair at the end of the table, sitting down slowly.

“You told me she was dead,” Ellie says, taking a shaky breath. “You told me, over and over again, that my mother was dead. I asked you a hundred times, I _asked_ you and you still…you lied to me.”

“Let me explain,” Joel says, his voice soft and careful.

“No!” Ellie surprises herself with the force of her shouting. “I don’t want to hear your excuses, okay? I just want the truth. Tell me the truth, and I’ll...I’ll stay. But if you lie to me one more time,” she finally looks at him, and the shame she sees in his face only stokes the fire in her chest, “I’m gone. I’ll leave tonight. You won’t ever see me again.”

The air is thick, and Joel holds her gaze for a second before he looks at the mess of paper on the table. His hands come up and link together on the table.

“Your mother was - is an addict,” he says. “She was unfit to be a parent. I had known her for a while, before she had you. One day, she contacts me and begs me to come and take you. She had the adoption papers ready, and I signed them. I brought you here, to Jackson. I heard of her arrest only a few weeks later.”

A sob rips through Ellie’s chest, and her hands go to her lips. The noise is guttural, and there aren’t even any tears yet. The betrayal she feels is deeper than that, it goes all the way into the very core of her being.

Joel sighs and runs his hands down his face. “You were so little, baby girl. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew that you couldn’t have anything to do with her. She’s...she’s not right, Ellie. So, I told you she had died, because I couldn’t risk you getting wrangled back into her life. It’s no life for a good kid like you.”

Ellie feels like the room is crumbling around her. Everything spins, everything feels off. Joel is looking at her with earnest eyes, glistening with unshed tears.

“I can’t,” Ellie gasps for air, her throat too small, “I need to go.”

“Ellie, please,” Joel starts to plead with her, but she pushes her chair back and rushes out of the room. Her feet carry her out the front door.

It’s the middle of winter, but she can’t feel the cold. Her socked feet crunch snow underneath them as she runs down the front steps and out the garden gate. Faintly, she hears Joel call out after her, but there’s a primal instinct working within her that tells her to run as far away as she can.

The air is cold and it burns her lungs. Her breath is a thick fog in front of her. She runs until her foot hits a patch of black ice, and it sends her flying forward onto her hands and knees.

“Fuck!” Her voice bounces off the houses on either side of the street. Wincing, she shifts to sit on her bum, wiping the salt and snow off her jeans. The knees of her pants are distressed, the ice having taken some of the dye out of them. Her chest is heaving with shallow breaths as she picks bits of gritty salt from the palms of her hands.

A car drives by, the lights blinding her for a second.

Carefully, Ellie gets to her feet. Her heart is racing.

“Fuck,” she says with a sniffle, wiping her eyes with her upper biceps. “What the fuck do I do now?”

***

Standing in front of the mirror above the sink, Ellie gingerly pulls her shirt over her head. She can see where bruises will start to bloom, and the pain she feels when she lifts her arms tells her that the bruising goes all the way to the bone. The bruises she had gotten from Jordan had only fully-healed a few days ago, and now there was going to be whole new masterpiece on her skin.

“Fuck,” Ellie hisses, bending over and splashing some water on her face. At least Abby hadn’t hit her in face, their blows evenly traded between each other’s bodies.

Ellie changes into some jeans and pulls a clean t-shirt over her head, tucking it into the waistband of her jeans. Her headphones cover her ears and she leaves the building, heading to her car.

Jesse is sitting on the hood, watching her as she approaches.

“Jesse,” Ellie greets, “how did you know I was here?”

“Word spreads surprisingly fast when Abby Anderson is kicking the shit out of some townie kid,” Jesse says, looking Ellie up and down. “I assumed that was you.”

Ellie shrugs. “Maybe.” Jesse leans over and pokes her in the ribs. “Ow, fuck!”

“That’s what I thought,” he says, and Ellie glowers. “Ellie, what the fuck is wrong with you? Picking a fight with Abby? Do you have a fuckin’ death wish?”

“They were trying to kick me out of the gym,” Ellie mumbles, and as she says it, she realises how fucking dumb it sounds.

“What, because it’s their gym and you’re not even a student here?” Jesse laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ, Ellie, grow the fuck up.”

“I get it, okay?” Ellie mumbles, “I’m an idiot.” She leans on the hood next to Jesse, scuffing her sneakers on the pavement.

“Yeah,” Jesse says, “a mega-dumbass.” They sit in silence for a moment, staring across the hoods of the cars that stretch out before them.

“Those are some choice sneakers,” Ellie says, trying to cut the disappointment she can feel emanating from Jesse like red anger lines in a comic book.

“Thanks,” he says, “Adidas.”

“Cool.”

“What’s with the bag in the backseat?”

Ellie shrugs, kicking at the ground. “I kind of…moved out?”

“Moved out or had a fight and ran away?” Jesse fixes her with a look Ellie likes to call a ‘perceptive dad look’.

“Do you even have to ask?” Ellie mumbles, taking a deep breath and hissing when her ribs protest.

“You got somewhere to stay?” Jesse asks, and Ellie shrugs again.

“I’ll figure it out.”

Jesse sighs and shakes his head. “Dina’s going to kick your ass.”

Ellie smirks, a small chuckle breaking through her lips. “Yeah.”

“C’mon,” Jesse says, patting her shoulder, “I’ll buy you some lunch. And see if we can find some ice for the hellacious bruising you’re about to get.”

Ellie grins, and they load into her car. Jesse cranks his window down and hangs an arm out as Ellie drives off campus. With the wind blowing hard outside the car and the music blasting inside, Ellie tries to shake the weight of her morning and forget that she somehow made herself homeless.

As they pull up to one of the few restaurants in town, Jesse looks over at Ellie.

“Hey,” he says, “we’ll figure this out, alright? My friends’ problems are my problems.”

Ellie feels the prick of tears behind her eyes, so she rolls them and punches Jesse in the arm. “You’re such a sap.”

Jesse smiles. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some backstory and some dumbass stoners, it's got everything! Thank you for all the support on this fic, it means the world that other people are in it with me. Take care of yourselves, and I'll see you back here next time!


	6. Ellie / and I've been waiting for this moment for all my life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's good news, and there's bad news. 
> 
> Chapter title from "In the Air Tonight" by Phil Collins.

Ellie doesn’t know how she keeps ending up in situations like this. What had she done in her previous life to deserve this, this eternal torture and test of her willpower?

Dina’s back is warm against Ellie’s chest, and the teased hair of her ponytail tickles Ellie’s chin as she stares intently at the game screen.

“Wait, fuck,” Dina says, and Ellie refocuses on the game.

“Jump,” Ellie says, and her hand that covers Dina’s on the buttons reacts quickly, pushing Dina’s finger down onto the correct button. Mario leaps over an enemy onscreen, and Ellie’s heart kicks her in the ribs when Dina tilts her head back and smiles, the weight of her head resting on Ellie’s collarbone.

“Good save,” Dina compliments her, and Ellie purses her lips, nodding stiffly. Dina returns her attention to the screen where Ellie is directing the little pixelated plumber to the POW block.

“You know this is two-player, right?” Ellie says for the tenth time that night. Dina’s hands are soft and warm underneath hers, and every breath Ellie takes is full of Dina’s hairspray, Dina’s perfume, the smell of Dina’s skin that underlies all of that…

“But I’m bad,” Dina reminds her, “so this is the only way we could actually get past the first level.” Dina moves Mario across the screen, jumping on top of a flipped enemy and defeating it.

“You’re not bad,” Ellie mumbles, “see? You just killed that thing.”

Dina hums and Ellie swears she leans back further, and it’s all of Dina’s body pressed tightly to hers. It causes her brain to short circuit, the soft press of all of Dina’s curves shocking her system like a personal kryptonite.

There’s a sound from the machine and Ellie looks at the game over message. “Fuck.”

“Okay, that’s my bad,” Dina says, and Ellie frowns. Can Dina tell that Ellie’s one hundred percent distracted by her? “I thought that guy was still flipped.”

“Oh,” Ellie nods, lifting her hands from Dina’s and stepping back, “that’s okay. I have to get back to work, anyways. Nachos don’t make themselves.”

“Do you want to hang out after your shift?” Dina asks, leaning back against the cabinet and flipping her ponytail over her shoulder.

“Uh, I guess,” Ellie says, “don’t we always hang out after my shift?”

Dina smiles. “I’m glad you’ve caught on.”

“Yeah,” Ellie says, rolling her eyes, “I’m a quick study.”

Dina laughs and shakes her head, and Ellie feels her cheeks heat up at the way Dina’s eyes crinkle and the way she bites her bottom lip for a second. “Go make your nachos, dipstick.” Ellie grins and turns away, sucking her bottom lip over her bottom teeth and smiling down at her shoes.

Ellie high-fives Sam as she rejoins him behind the concession counter. She pours herself a cup of water and leans against the back counter.

“How’s it going?” She asks, and Sam shrugs, holding out a hand at the relatively quiet arcade.

“Boring,” he says, “slow. Like every other Tuesday.” He hops up onto the counter beside Ellie, his Air Jordans swinging a few inches above the floor. “What’s up with you and Dina?”

“Nothing,” Ellie answers quickly, staring across the arcade floor at where Dina is sliding a quarter into the _Pengo_ machine, “nothing’s up.”

“It’s just,” Sam taps the heels of his shoes against the cabinet, “you guys seemed like…pretty close. You know _Mario_ is a two-player game, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Ellie says, “I’m well aware. She just wanted help. Dina’s not that good at games.” Sam makes a noise in the back of his throat, and Ellie looks at him. “What?”

“I dunno,” Sam shrugs and picks at a stain on his parachute pants, “just seems like there are easier ways to learn how to play a video game than have someone all up on you.”

“I was _not_ ‘all up on’ her,” Ellie protests, “and that’s just Dina. Trust me, she’s like that with everyone, okay? Nothing special.”

“Look, do you want to head out early tonight?” Sam looks around the quiet arcade, the only sounds coming from a few in-use machines. There’s only around a dozen people, and they close in an hour and a half. Still, Ellie feels uneasy about leaving Sam alone. He’s a good employee, but he’s still new and it’s easy to miss steps when you’re not used to the process.

“I shouldn’t leave you all alone,” Ellie says, “it wouldn’t be fair.”

“Nah, man,” Sam waves her off, “it’s cool. Go get your game on with your girl.”

Ellie pushes off the counter. “She’s not my girl,” she mutters. There’s no point trying to dispute the flirting comment; Ellie knows she’d lose that debate.

“Right,” Sam says with a wink. Ellie rolls her eyes.

“You’re sure? I’ll hang around until close if you need any help.” She checks his face for any hesitation, but he reassures her that it’s fine, ushering her out from behind the counter. Ellie makes him serve up a serving of nachos, and she walks it over to Dina.

“Mother-fucking-penguin-bitch,” Dina is muttering as she slides the little avatar around the screen. Ellie smirks as she leans up against the _Xevious_ cabinet beside her friend.

“Having a rough go?” She teases. Dina grits her teeth as she gets hit by a Sno-bee. The game music dwindles as she gets the game over screen.

“I suck,” Dina says with a sigh. She looks at the nachos Ellie holds out and smiles. “But you don’t suck. You’re the best.” She takes the nachos and carefully lifts a hot, cheese-covered chip into her mouth.

“I don’t get how you eat that,” Ellie says, “it tastes like hot feet.”

“Maybe I like feet,” Dina says through her mouthful, “don’t be a hater.” Ellie snorts at that, watching as Dina pops another chip into her mouth. “What?” Dina says, covering her mouth with her hand, “is there something on my face?”

“Uh, no,” Ellie says, shaking her head a little, “no, your face is…your face is good.”

_Your face…is good._

Ellie wants to punch herself in the face.

“Hey, did you abandon Sam?” Dina asks, wiping a bit of cheese from the corner of her mouth. It shouldn’t be as attractive as Ellie finds it, but her heart still does that little fluttery thing as a small ball of warmth ignites in her gut.

“He told me to get out of his hair,” Ellie says, “I think he wants to prove he can handle a shift on his own.”

“He’s cute,” Dina says, “for a seventeen-year-old. He wants to prove himself to you.” Dina leans over and bumps her shoulder into Ellie’s. “I think he has a little crush on you, El.”

Ellie scoffs. “Don’t be gross.”

“I’m pretty good at spotting these kinds of things,” Dina says, “I have a bit of a gift for spotting crushes.”

Ellie chokes back a laugh and looks down at her sneakers. “You really don’t.” _Thank all the powers-that-be that you don’t._ “C’mon, let’s play a few games. I’ll steal the quarters from _Tron_ or something.”

“You’re so bad,” Dina teases her. “I’ll just watch you play whatever, if you promise me something.”

“Depends,” Ellie says with a skeptical raise of her eyebrows, “what are you thinking I’ll promise you?”

“Promise me,” Dina says, putting her hand on Ellie’s arm, “promise me that you’ll come with me to the stupid engineering winter dance in a few weeks.”

Ellie groans. “I hate dances.”

“But you love me,” Dina says, putting on a very good impression of a sad little puppy. Ellie looks away, searching for any leftover willpower she can find in her body.

“There’s gonna be booze, right?” Ellie leads Dina over to the _Defender_ cabinet, slotting a quarter into the machine.

“Yes, Ellie, there will be booze,” Dina says with a roll of her eyes. Tossing the empty nacho box into the garbage, she stands just behind Ellie, looking over her shoulder as the game starts up. “So you’ll come?”

“I guess so,” Ellie mumbles, and Dina’s arms wrap around her waist from behind.

“You’re the best,” Dina says into Ellie’s shoulder.

Ellie’s brain short-circuits and she misses the start of the game, immediately losing a life. “Uh, thanks.”

“So, what’s the dweeby lore behind this game?” Dina asks, one of her arms resting around Ellie’s waist as she watches Ellie play.

“Right, so,” Ellie fires a shot at an alien enemy, “I’m that little spaceship. Basically, I’m defending the humans and the planet from the aliens. If a human gets abducted, they come back as an alien mutant and they attack me.”

“Kind of a dick move,” Dina comments, and Ellie laughs.

“Yeah, well,” she shrugs, “aliens aren’t known for their hospitality.”

“You, uh, know a lot of aliens?”

“Shut up,” Ellie laughs. “Do you want me to keep talking or not?”

“Yes, yes,” Dina says, and Ellie can hear the amusement in her voice, “educate me, dweeb-o-rama.”

“Dick,” Ellie shoots back with her lips pulled up in a half-smile. “Okay, so if I do a shitty job and all the humans are abducted, there’s a big swarm of mutants.” Ellie grits her teeth as she narrowly avoids enemy fire. “But I’m like, really good at this. So. You’ll probably never see it happen.”

“Mhm,” Dina says, and Ellie doesn’t have to look at her to know she’s probably smirking and trying really hard not to burst into laughter.

Ellie plays through a few quarters, each game lasting long enough that she thinks she might have impressed Dina. Not that that’s what this is about, but it doesn’t hurt that every time she does something really cool, Dina rubs a hand up and down Ellie’s bicep. Doesn’t hurt at all.

By closing time, Ellie and Dina are loitering around the concession stand. Ellie’s keeping an eye on Sam in case her presence is required, but so far, he’s doing a good job. He’s a hard worker, and Ellie respects his desire to prove himself responsible. There’s only one really loud crash that makes her start to get to her feet, but Dina’s hand on hers stops her.

“Let him do it,” she says, “he’ll be fine.” Ellie sighs, and she keeps an ear out for any more disruptions.

Sam finishes up the close almost on time. He waves to Ellie as he leaves, and Ellie sends him a big thumbs up.

“He’s a good dude,” Ellie says, standing up and going to inspect the small kitchen. It’s spotless, not a napkin out of place. “Fuck, he did a better job than me.”

“Is that surprising?” Dina asks, and Ellie flips her off.

“C’mon,” Ellie says, “let’s go to my place.”

Dina snorts, “Your place is just the little workshop here.”

“Yeah,” Ellie says with a shrug, “but it’s still mine.” Dina rolls her eyes and follows Ellie into the back rooms, winding past the beanbags and through the door into the workshop. There’s a small cot set up in the corner, Ellie’s stuff strewn about the room. Clothes hang off of utility pipes, a small tv is plugged in at the foot of the cot with Ellie’s prized Atari 2600. Her guitar is in its case, propped up against the side of the workbench. There’s her Multimoog synthesizer as well, taking up most of the workbench.

Dina sits on the cot, tossing a sock aside and using Ellie’s pillow as a backrest. “Did you get that VCR from Eugene?”

“Yeah,” Ellie nods, “thanks for that. He seemed kind of peeved to have a customer.”

“He’s always grumpy when people buy stuff,” Dina says, “he’s a fuckin’ hoarder.” Ellie grabs the VCR and starts hooking it up to the TV, blowing some dust out of the inputs. “I swear, he’d be happier if he never sold anything and just got to keep all his shit.”

Ellie flips the power switch on the tv and goes to channel three. The blue screen flickers to life. From under the cot, Ellie pulls out a ragged cardboard box. She takes the lid off and sets it on the cot. It’s full of bootlegged VHS tapes, and Ellie reads the names on a few.

“Oh, shit,” she pulls out a tape and grins at Dina, “you still haven’t seen _Curtis and Viper_.”

“Oh, no,” Dina groans, “come on, there’s got to be something else you ripped off of PBS.”

“My house, my rules,” Ellie teases. “Look, if you hate it, we can watch whatever you want. But I think you’ll like it.”

Dina narrows her eyes at Ellie. “Fine. But only because I like you.” Ellie’s heart jumps at those words.

“Right,” she says, hoping Dina can’t notice the tint of red in her cheeks in this dimly lit room. Ellie pops the tape in the player. It picks up halfway into the opening credits, and the two girls shuffle around to try and fit both of them on the small cot.

“Sharp elbows,” Dina mutters, grabbing Ellie’s arm and pulling it around her shoulders.

“Sorry,” Ellie mumbles. Her heart is somewhere in her throat and her stomach all at once, the heat from Dina’s body causing hers to go into overdrive. Her hand is dangling too close to Dina’s chest, and she carefully closes it in a fist, making sure no part of her hand brushes anywhere on Dina’s body.

“So, wait, which one is Curtis?” Dina asks.

“The older guy,” Ellie says, her back stiff as she holds herself up straight. She feels like a spring, coiled tight and ready to burst. “Um, Viper is the ninja kid.”

“Right,” Dina says, and she shifts a little, laying her legs across Ellie’s lap. Ellie’s breath hitches, and she hopes Dina didn’t hear it over the movie. “And they’re…spies?”

“Uh, yeah,” Ellie clears her throat, her voice caught on a rib, “yeah, they’re basically spies.”

“Seems irresponsible to let a child be a spy,” Dina mumbles. Ellie rolls her eyes.

“Only children can truly defeat communism,” Ellie says in a bad impression of Ronald Reagan. Dina snorts and her laughter sends Ellie’s stomach into backflips.

They watch the beginning of the movie mostly in silence, Dina only asking a few more questions about the exposition. If it were anyone else, Ellie would find it annoying, but she likes that Dina is asking questions. It feels like she’s making an effort to care.

When Curtis is shot by an enemy sniper, and Viper is pressing small hands to his bleeding wound, Ellie hears a sniffle from Dina.

“Are you…crying?” Ellie looks at her friend, who tries to turn her head away.

“No,” Dina says, but it sounds soggy and unconvincing. Ellie chokes back a laugh. “Fuck off, it’s just…look how much they like each other, it’s sweet!” Dina groans as Ellie laughs again, and she turns her head to hide her face in Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie chokes on her laughter then, coughing and hoping Dina can’t hear the rapid beat of her heart.

“You’re weird,” Ellie says, trying to cover up the way her every nerve feels like it’s on fire.

“Your heart is racing,” Dina says, and Ellie closes her eyes as Dina presses her ear harder against the top of her chest.

“It’s an action-packed movie,” Ellie defends, “it’s bound to get the blood pumping.”

Dina lifts her head and looks at Ellie, eyes narrowed and searching. “I think you like this movie a little too much.”

“You’re the one who was crying,” Ellie says.

“You can’t prove it,” Dina says, and Ellie reaches a hand up and, with her whole arm shaking, she wipes off a remnant of a tear from Dina’s cheekbone. She holds her thumb up so the light reflects off the wet spot.

“Proof.”

Dina grabs her hand and wipes it on the leg of Ellie’s jeans. “You suck.” Ellie grins, pleased when Dina can’t help but return it. Rolling her eyes, Dina taps Ellie’s thigh. “Open up, I’m sick of leaning on the wall.”

“What?” Ellie barely has time to protest or register what’s happening before Dina is pushing her legs apart and settling between them, leaning back against Ellie’s chest. Her head falls to Ellie’s right shoulder, cradled in the soft dip below Ellie’s collarbone. Ellie’s hands hover at her sides, and she wonders what the fuck she’s supposed to do with her hands. What do people normally do with their hands? What the fuck?

“Comfy?” Dina asks.

_Actually, I think I’m on fire and I might explode into a thousand pieces._

“Mhm,” Ellie nods, her neck held at an unnaturally straight angle to avoid getting too close to Dina’s face.

Dina takes Ellie’s hands and pulls them so her arms are tucked around Dina’s ribs. Dina clasps their hands together on her stomach. “Relax, Ellie. I’m not going to bite you.”

 _I wish you would_.

Ellie nods, although no part of her relaxes. That warm ball in her stomach is hot now, spreading through her body with every breath that carries Dina’s perfume into her nose. The press of Dina against her chest, between her legs, her head on Ellie’s shoulder, it feels like too much and not enough.

“Okay, wait,” Dina says, and Ellie’s hands tense, “Viper is ten years old and he just took out that whole platoon on his own?”

“Yeah, he’s a badass,” Ellie says.

“That poor kid is going to be _so_ fucked up,” Dina mumbles. Her body presses harder against Ellie’s as she leans back. Ellie can feel her palms starting to sweat.

The movie ends with a triumphant sunset, Curtis and Viper standing atop a mountain as the frame freezes. Dina gets to her knees and turns the tape off, hitting rewind.

“So?” Ellie asks. Dina turns and faces her, folding her knees under her body.

“I’ll admit it,” Dina says, “it was pretty good.” Ellie grins and sticks her tongue out at Dina.

“Told you so,” she says. Her body feels cold with Dina’s absence.

Dina rolls her eyes and climbs off the cot. She walks over to where Ellie’s tape deck and bookcase speakers are set up on a shelf between paper cup refills and a toolbox. There’s a pile of tapes on top of it, and Dina starts rifling through it.

“Do you have any fun music?” Dina asks, grimacing at a _Dead Kennedy’s_ tape.

“My music is fun,” Ellie grumbles, crossing her legs in front of her.

“Your music makes me want to go and set something on fire,” Dina counters, “preferably your tapes.” Still, she finds a tape that seems to be acceptable, and she puts it in the player. Distorted guitar plays through the speakers, and Dina cranks the volume.

As the first song comes on, Ellie groans. “Fuck, Dina. Really?”

Dina grins and shimmies her shoulders. “It’s a good tape, Ellie.”

“It’s not even mine,” Ellie says, “I don’t like it.”

“Oh really?” Dina leans over and grabs Ellie’s hands, pulling her up off the bed. “Then why do you have it?”

Ellie stands still as Dina tries to get her to dance, moving her arms around like a marionette. “It must have gotten mixed up when I was getting my stuff from…from Joel’s.” Ellie’s throat tightens at that, struggling to get his name past her lips.

Dina must notice the shift in Ellie’s mood, and she starts moving her hips to the music. “Come on, Ellie. I know you like this song.” Dina drops Ellie’s hands and takes her hair out of its ponytail and shaking it out. Ellie rolls her eyes as Dina points at her, a smile spread across her lips.

“I don’t like it,” Ellie insists, but her right foot starts tapping.

“Come on, here’s the chorus,” Dina says, jumping as the cymbals hit. “You!” She points at Ellie, who shakes her head, lips pressed tight together. “Try again, okay here it comes…you!”

“Shook me all night long,” Ellie mumbles. Dina cheers, dancing up to her and putting her arms around Ellie’s neck. Ellie sighs as Dina’s body bumps hers, her face only inches away. Ellie stares up at the ceiling, knowing that the way Dina’s hips move is a recipe for disaster.

Dina keeps moving, and Ellie starts to give in, her head bobbing from side to side. Dina is smiling at her, and it’s impossible for Ellie to keep her eyes off of her friend. There’s something intoxicating about the way her eyes search Ellie’s, the warmth from where their bodies touch, the gentle press of Dina’s fingers against the back of Ellie’s neck. Ellie’s hands rest lightly on Dina’s waist, the polyester material of her off-the-shoulder sweater not doing enough to hide the shape of her body from Ellie’s fingers.

The song ends abruptly, the casingle clicking as it whirrs to a stop. Ellie clears her throat and ducks out from under Dina’s arms.

“I’m picking the music now,” she says, trying to sound normal as she gives her body and mind time to recover from the experience of having Dina dance that close to her. Dina doesn’t protest, and when Ellie turns to wave her _Rush_ tape in Dina’s face, her words get caught in her throat.

Dina is pulling her hair back up into a ponytail, exposing the smooth curve of her neck. Her sweater exposes her shoulder, and Ellie’s eyes trace the line of shoulder to neck, the gentle slope of Dina’s jaw and the redness in her cheeks. Dina is looking at her, too, and her gaze feels heavy where it falls on Ellie’s face. There’s something in the way Dina’s biting her bottom lip, something about the way her eyes are dark as they flicker up and down Ellie’s body.

“Is that _Rush_?” Dina says, and Ellie looks dumbly at the cassette in her hand.

“Uh, yeah,” Ellie says, “how did you know?”

“Because you always pick _Rush_ ,” Dina says, sitting down on Ellie’s cot and shaking her head fondly at her. “You’re predictable.”

“Or am I just reliable,” Ellie counters, turning and exchanging the cassettes. She turns the volume down so it’s background noise, the opening notes of _Tom Sawyer_ like a comforting blanket to her ears. She sits down next to Dina, leaning back against the wall so they’re perpendicular.

“I like that,” Dina says. “How are your ribs, ol’ faithful?”

Ellie shrugs. “Mostly fine. It’s been a couple weeks, so the bruising is gone. It only hurts if I do anything really twisty.”

“And how are you?” Dina looks concerned, and Ellie sighs.

“I’m fine, Dina. Really.”

“It’s just,” Dina reaches into her bra and pulls out a joint, “you’re living at your job, Ellie. In a tiny windowless room.” Her lighter is pulled out next, and Ellie can’t help but wonder how she keeps all that in there.

Her cheeks also flush as she realises that she’s going to smoke a spliff that was pressed in against Dina’s boobs for god knows how long.

“It’s not that bad,” Ellie says, watching Dina light up the joint and take a long toke, “I get to go and play games whenever I want. Plus, free fries.”

“Sounds healthy,” Dina says, passing the joint to Ellie who takes it and, maybe somewhat reverently, takes a slow drag. “Have you talked to Joel at all?”

Ellie frowns and blows the smoke from her lips. “No. And I don’t have to.”

“I know,” Dina says, soft as she takes the joint and holds it in front of her. “I just -,”

“What?” Ellie can’t help the challenge in her voice, daring Dina to finish her sentence.

Dina looks at her, and presses her lips together. “Nothing,” she mumbles, taking a hit.

“Good,” Ellie mutters. They pass and puff, neither girl speaking over the polyrhythms that are playing from the stereo. Ellie feels like Dina is watching her, but she refuses to reward her with any eye-contact.

The tape comes to an end, the haze of smoke dissipating as Ellie tosses the roach onto the floor. She feels tired, and her head is running a hundred miles an hour. Part of her, the high part, really wants to tell Dina everything. She wants to spill her guts out on the floor and let Dina pick through them, she wants to speak every truth about herself into the air and have Dina breathe them in.

But she can’t.

Dina would never look at her the same. There’s too much to lose by opening up.

The weight of Dina climbing up beside her shakes Ellie out of her own head, and she looks over at her friend. Dina’s eyes are bloodshot, and she’s kicking back the blanket on the cot.

“What’re you doing?” Ellie asks, her voice like sandpaper.

“Lying down,” Dina answers, grabbing Ellie’s arm and pulling her down with her. Ellie falls into that routine easily, nothing new about Dina being high and wanting to cuddle. Ellie curls her body around Dina’s, letting Dina pull her closer and closer. A hand pulls Ellie’s arm close around Dina’s waist, and Ellie presses her nose to the place where Dina’s neck and shoulder meet.

“I wish you’d talk to me,” Dina says, and the silence swallows her words. Ellie closes her eyes and grips Dina’s hand tighter in hers.

“I’m sorry,” Ellie mumbles. Dina shifts, turning around to face Ellie. Their noses bump, and Ellie pulls her head back, blinking at the contact. Dina’s breath smells like pot, but it’s not as unpleasant as Ellie would expect. 

“You can trust me, Ellie,” Dina says, and her hand reaches out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Ellie’s ear, “you don’t need to be so lonely.”

Ellie closes her eyes again, trying to stop the tears she feels. Stupid weed making her feel her feelings. Stupid Dina making her think about her feelings. Stupid her for not being able to do shit about it.

“What are you so scared of?” Dina whispers, and Ellie can’t tell who she’s asking. Dina’s eyes trace the lines of Ellie’s face, and Ellie feels like she’s been put under a microscope.

“I’m not scared,” Ellie lies, and Dina lets out a small breath through her nose, like she doesn’t believe a word Ellie says. Dina’s hand rests on the side of Ellie’s face, the tips of her fingers brushing against Ellie’s hairline.

“Oh, Ellie,” Dina mumbles, and Ellie feels the press of Dina’s knees against her thighs, “aren’t you terrified?”

Ellie blinks, searching Dina’s eyes for an answer. Beneath her smoky eyeshadow, Dina’s eyes look like they go on forever, and Ellie wonders if she could find stars in their depths. Ellie’s lips feel dry; she darts her tongue out to moisten them.

“Should I be?” She asks, and Dina bites her bottom lip.

“No,” Dina says with the smallest shake of her head, “no, don’t be.”

Then there’s the press of lips against hers, and Ellie freezes. Dina’s eyes have drifted shut, and her fingers slide to tangle in the roots of Ellie’s hair. Her lips are soft and careful, a sharp breath being taken in through her nose. Ellie barely has time to react before Dina is pulling back and tilting her head, their lips coming together again.

This time, Ellie can register what’s happening. Her hand that had been on Dina’s waist makes the move to the small of her back, gently urging her forward. Dina makes a small noise as Ellie tilts her head, deepening the kiss. Something warm brushes against the seam of Ellie’s lips; Ellie parts her lips to let Dina’s tongue in, just for a second before Dina pulls back.

Their breaths fill the spaces between them, neither girl opening her eyes. Ellie’s hand tightens in the material of Dina’s sweater, trying to hold this moment. Dina’s fingers twitch against Ellie’s scalp, and Ellie can hear the shaky breath she lets out.

“Dina,” Ellie starts, slowly opening her eyes.

“Shut up,” Dina says, soft and desperate. Her hand goes to Ellie’s shoulder, pushing her onto her back. Ellie’s hands fly to Dina’s hips, steadying her as she climbs on top of Ellie. There’s a pause, a second where Dina look at Ellie, and Ellie looks at Dina, and the air feels thick with something electric. Dina’s hands are on either side of Ellie’s head, and she stares down at her, her ponytail falling to one side of her face. Before Ellie can speak, Dina is leaning down and kissing her again.

Dina kisses with purpose. Every movement of her lips is intense, and Ellie whimpers against her. It’s overwhelming; it’s like trying to stand up against a tidal wave. Ellie gives in with no protest, following Dina’s lead. Dina gasps into her mouth when Ellie bites at her bottom lip, like she’s been waiting for it her whole life. The weight of Dina on her hips is intoxicating, and Ellie’s hands grip her desperately. Dina pulls away slightly, their lips barely brushing as they breathe each other in. Dina kisses her again, hot and open, her tongue licking into Ellie’s mouth. Ellie feels it shoot right between her legs, and her hips buck involuntarily. Dina moans, and it feels too good to be true.

“Dina,” Ellie says, trying to get the other girl’s attention. Dina shakes her head, taking Ellie’s bottom lip between hers and coaxing her tongue out of her mouth and into Dina’s. With great effort, Ellie sits up, Dina straddling her lap as Ellie breaks their kiss.

They stare at each other. Ellie tries to catch her breath, and Dina looks to be doing the same. Her cheeks are flushed in pretty pink, her lips red and shining. Dina puts her hands on Ellie’s shoulders, and she leans back.

“Dina,” Ellie tries again, “what…?”

Dina purses her lips and pushes back, sitting at the foot of the bed. Ellie’s hands fall from her sides against the blanket, bouncing uselessly on the cot.

“I,” Dina starts and her eyebrows knit together, “I’m sorry. I need to go.” She stands up, and Ellie looks at her bewildered.

“What the fuck?” Ellie says, scrambling to her feet. “Dina, what do you mean you have to go?” Her head spins as she stands, the weed still coating her brain like a thick fog.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Dina says, and her arm twitches like she wants to reach out. Ellie stares at her, eyes wide and not understanding what was happening.

“Dina,” Ellie calls after her, but Dina is already winding through the store room and heading to the front doors of the arcade. Ellie hears them slam shut, and she falls back onto her cot. Her fingers reach up and touch her lips.

Everything that had felt so right a minute ago now feels so fucking wrong. Ellie lies back with her head on her pillow, staring up at the pipes that line the ceiling. She had kissed Dina. She’d kind of _made out_ with Dina. It had felt like everything she had ever imagined, and so much more.

And then she left. No, she _ran away_. Ellie clenches her eyes shut and bangs her fists against the bed.

She’d fucked it all up. That look on Dina’s face when she’d left, like she couldn’t even stand being in the same room as Ellie. How uncomfortable does someone have to be to just get up and leave?

Ellie wipes at the tear that runs down from the corner of her eye into the hair by her temple. “I’m so fucking stupid,” she laughs through her tears, “ _so_ fucking stupid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5k words of Dina and Ellie being messes. This was not what I started writing and not what I intended at all for chapter 6, but I like it. Sometimes you gotta do what the characters are forcing you to do. 
> 
> You can all direct your thanks to ehefic for how this turned out! She is an enabler.
> 
> Thank you all for your kind comments and kudos and bookmarks! I'm loving writing this story. 
> 
> Come hang out on twitch (@breezered) sometime, we have a really good time I promise!


	7. Abby / it happens too fast you trade your passion for glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby can't catch a break, like, ever. 
> 
> Chapter title from "Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor.
> 
> TW; it's not said explicitly or described in any way, but there's the implication of familial abuse/bad home life. Very very light and brief, but still there.

Abby takes a sip from the bottle that Nora passes her. The paper bag crinkles as she grips it. Manny takes it from her next, hissing a breath through his teeth as the gin goes down. There’s quiet music coming from Manny’s portable radio, something country and sappy.

“Have you guys seen Mel?” Nora is saying, and Abby grunts in distaste.

“She’s like, for real knocked up,” Manny says. He’s leaning up against the brick wall that Abby sits on top of, his collar turned up against the early winter night air. “It’s crazy, I can’t believe they’re having a _baby_.”

“Yeah, life’s a fuckin’ miracle,” Abby grumbles. Nora takes the gin and passes it to Abby, who takes a greedy sip. The neon light from the convenience store behind them bathes them all in an unearthly glow.

“You need to get over it,” Manny says. He’s big on tough love, and Abby normally likes that about him, but right now she’s feeling too sad for herself.

She’d run into Mel and Owen this morning in town at the grocery store. Mel’s family was from Jackson, and Owen had told Abby that they were going to buy a house here and raise their kid in town. It was…a lot to take in, along with the growing bump of Mel’s stomach.

“I’ll get over it when I don’t have to see them around,” Abby mutters, taking another drink.

“You haven’t even dated Owen in like…what, almost two years?” Manny continues.

“What do you know about it,” Nora pipes in, jumping to Abby’s defense, “you’ve never been in a relationship that’s lasted longer than what, two nights?”

Manny smirks and snatches the gin back. “That’s why I’m the smartest one here.”

“You’re a pig,” Nora says. Abby snorts. Manny slaps at her ankle.

“D’you think they’ll actually last?” Abby asks. Nora and Manny exchange a look, and Abby looks back and forth between the two of them. Willie Nelson croons from the radio about being on the road again.

“Did no one tell you?” Nora asks, careful. Manny passes the gin back to Abby.

“Tell me what?”

“He proposed, Abs,” Manny says, “they’re getting hitched in a couple weeks.”

Abby feels her stomach hit the ground and she takes a long drink. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Abby,” Nora says, “I thought you knew.”

“Guess he was too much of a coward to tell me,” Abby mutters. She hops off the wall and lands unsteadily on her feet. Manny grabs her elbow and holds her up. She shakes him off. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Abby, it’s pretty late,” Nora tries to stop her, but Abby waves her off and pushes by, the gin still gripped in her fist.

“I’ll be back soon,” Abby promises weakly. She can feel their eyes on her back as she heads down the road, taking a drink.

Her head feels too full, and her chest feels too tight. It’s not a surprise, that Owen and Mel are going to be getting _married_. What the fuck else do people do when they have a surprise baby? But Abby can’t deny that it hurts that Owen didn’t have the balls to tell her himself.

She wanders down the streets of Jackson, drunk but not dumb enough to walk down any alleys. Abby knows she could definitely take anyone who thought jumping her was a good idea, but having grown up in a city, she also knows better than to take too many chances.

Rounding the corner, the bright lights of the arcade come into view. It must be near closing time by now, and Abby watches from a distance as kids file out and hop on their bikes. The weather is soon going to turn and biking won’t be an option, and Abby would bet that there’s an influx of kids taking their wheels out for a spin. She keeps walking, heading around the side of the parking lot.

There’s a loud noise that comes from the dumpsters, and something that sounds like a kid crying out. Abby frowns, and tucks the gin into her jacket pocket. Her feet carry her over to the dumpsters.

It’s dark, no light to illuminate faces, but Abby can pretty clearly make out three figures standing around a smaller one. The body language is clear, and the size differences are even clearer.

“Hey!” Abby shouts, doing her best to square up and look as big and threatening as possible. If it’s just a group of kids, they should scatter pretty quick.

Heads turn and look at her, taking in her silhouette. The three bigger kids all scramble away, yelling childish insults behind them as they go. Abby smirks and jogs over to the figure on the ground.

“You okay, kid?” She asks, holding out a hand to the smaller kid. They kid looks up and Abby recognizes him. “Lev?”

Lev takes her hand and lets her pull him up, dusting the dirt from his jeans. “Hi, Abby.”

“Are you alright?” She holds him by the shoulders and looks him over. There’s a bruise on his cheekbone. It looks too old to be from tonight. “What happened to your face?”

“I fell,” he says. Abby rolls her eyes.

“Right,” she scoffs, “you fell on your cheek. That happens so much.”

“It only has to happen once,” Lev counters, stepping out of her grip and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Fair enough,” Abby says, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Can I walk you home? In case those assholes come back.”

Lev shrugs. “I guess.”

The two of them had run into each other few times before today, usually with Lev’s sister by his side. It was hard not to run into people when you were in town. They had the same taste in arcade games, and Abby was happy to sneak Lev some extra quarters.

“So, those guys friends of yours?” Abby asks, her fingers wrapped around the bottle in her pocket.

“No,” Lev answers, missing Abby’s sarcasm. “They’re just some… _assholes_ from school.”

Abby can’t help the little smirk that crosses her lips at Lev’s clearly rare use of the word asshole. “Is this the first time they’ve ganged up on you?”

“They do it all the time,” Lev admits in a mumble. “I don’t know, I guess they just don’t like me.”

“Well, then they’re dumb assholes,” Abby says, nudging him with her elbow. “Do your parents know about this?”

“No.” Lev looks down at his ratty sneakers then, and it’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“Well, if you need me to shake them down,” Abby offers, and that sparks a little smile from the younger boy. “Do you know how to punch?”

“Don’t you just…make a fist and hit someone with it?” Lev asks, looking at his hands and forming loose fists.

“Well, first of all,” Abby holds out her own hand and makes a fist, “don’t wrap or tuck your thumb. Have it at the side, like this.” She wiggles her thumb and places it. Lev copies her. “Good, yeah.” She stops and taps Lev on the shoulder, holding out her hand and opening it up. “Go ahead, show me what you’ve got.”

“Really?” Lev seems uncertain, and Abby nods.

“I’m pretty tough,” Abby says. Lev sighs and throws a weak punch at her hand. “Okay, I didn’t even _feel_ that.” Lev tries again, and Abby can see that he’s throwing his punch from his elbow.

“How was that?”

Abby straightens up and takes a fighting stance. “Hold your hand out, like I did.” Lev complies, looking a little nervous. “I’m not going to hit hard, chill out.” Abby clears her throat and shows Lev her fist. “So, the fist is good. You don’t want to break your own hand, so aim with your knuckles, like they’re…like the avatar in _Space Invaders_. Next, remember that power comes from using your whole body. Don’t throw yourself, but make the punch come from your waist.”

“From my waist?” Lev drops his hand and twists at the waist like an old man doing a stretch. Abby chokes back a laugh.

“Watch me,” she says. Slowly, she shows how her body turns as she punches, ending up in alignment with her target. “And never fully extend your arm. If you let your elbow overextend, you can lose balance, or your opponent can grab your arm and then you’re screwed.” Abby demonstrates that, holding her arm out and letting Lev copy her. “And always keep your other hand up as a guard, okay? Like, even if you don’t get a punch in, if you have your hands up you at least won’t get your face kicked in.”

Abby watches Lev throw a few punches. He’s still a bit too loose in his movements, but it’s not bad for a kid who didn’t know how to make a fist a few minutes ago.

“Thanks, Abby,” Lev says, resuming their walk.

“Anytime,” she says, “but like, don’t go starting any fights, okay? We don’t need you getting your ass kicked because you got cocky.” Lev grins at that and promises he won’t. They walk in silence for another few minutes, until Lev stops them outside a small bungalow.

“This is my house,” he says. Abby looks at it; it’s modest, with a dead lawn and chipped paint. There’s a light on inside. Lev stands at the small concrete walkway, looking at the house with Abby. There’s something in his posture that makes Abby hesitate.

“Hey,” she puts a hand on his shoulder, “you want to get some fries?”

Lev turns to her and smiles. “That sounds good.”

***

Two hours later, and Abby is on her way back to the dorms. Lev had made it safely inside, the lights all off in the house now. The buzz of the gin had worn off after the first serving of fries they’d eaten. Lev had eaten through the fries like he’d never had them before.

Campus is quiet this late at night, only a few lights on in the dormitories. Leaves skitter around the sidewalk, and the wind slices cold on Abby’s cheeks. Her previous anger at Owen feels subsided after spending time with Lev; it was good to be reminded there was way more to life than dumbass ex-boyfriends and their annoying knocked-up girlfriends.

Sometimes, it’s enough to teach a kid how to punch and watch him eat fries like it’s going out of style.

Humming offkey to herself, Abby nears the girls’ dorm. There’s someone sitting on the steps, and Abby wonders who would be sitting out on a night like this. Probably a stoner or a smoker.

However, Abby should have known she’d have no such luck as to easily pass by.

“Of fucking course,” the person sighs. They lift their head and Abby groans.

Of course it’s Ellie Williams.

“You mind moving over?” Abby says, nodding at the stairs. She doesn’t feel like stepping over the other girl and potentially getting her feet knocked out from under her.

“What are you _doing_ here?” Ellie asks, and Abby can hear the slur in her voice.

“I fuckin’ live here,” Abby answers, “now, move over before I move you.”

Ellie gets to her feet, swaying as she stands. “Go ahead and try.”

“What’s your damage, Williams?” Abby sighs. “Do you _want_ me to beat you up again?” Abby shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest.

“What, you scared to fight without all your…your little friends?” Ellie taunts, and Abby catches the smell of whiskey on her breath. She wrinkles her nose and steps back.

“I don’t have anything to prove,” Abby says. Ellie stumbles down the stairs, and Abby grimaces as she gets right in her face.

“Coward,” Ellie hisses, “such a goddamn coward.”

“Watch it,” Abby warns. She pushes Ellie back, not hard to enough to make her fall, but enough to get her and her alcohol breath out of her face. “I’m not in the mood for this.”

“Too bad,” Ellie says, coming forward again and shoving Abby’s shoulder.

Abby catches her wrists and twists, holding Ellie’s arms up behind her back. The wiry girl cries out a little, and Abby scoffs. “Were you waiting here to fight me? Get the fuck over yourself and go home.” She turns Ellie towards the road and pushes her towards it, letting go of her arms. Ellie stumbles, catching herself on the streetlamp.

“Not everything is about you,” Ellie spits. “Maybe you need to get over _yourself_.” She comes at Abby again, this time swinging a fist. Abby dodges easily.

“Last chance,” Abby growls, “get out of here. You’re wasted and I don’t care enough about you to put up with your self-destructive bullshit.”

Ellie laughs at that. Something glints on her cheek as the light from the lamp above catches her face in the light. “Come on, Anderson. Pull that stick out of your ass. You scared you can’t win a fight without the safety of your gloves?” With that, Ellie swings again, and Abby dodges it. She doesn’t see the second hit coming, and a bony fist collides with Abby’s gut. Or, it would if there wasn’t a bottle of gin protecting her. Abby feels the bottle break, gin seeping through her jacket.

“Fuck!” Abby gasps, ripping off her coat and tossing it on the ground. All that anger that she had thought had been dispersed earlier suddenly comes back in a wave. Suddenly, Ellie isn’t just the same old annoying girl; she’s every person Abby’s ever known that’s made her feel small, or feel like she wasn’t worth shit, like she couldn’t do it. “You started this.”

Abby steps in and delivers a blow to Ellie’s stomach. Ellie crumples, the sickly smell of alcohol on her breath washing over Abby as her breath leaves her. Abby pants over her bent over form, and she lifts her knee into Ellie’s chest. Ellie grunts, but then she drives her head and arms into Abby’s stomach, knocking her onto her back. Abby bites her tongue as she falls back onto the lawn. Her head bounces off the grass.

Ellie is kneeling on top of her, and Abby lifts her hands to protect her face. Ellie stills lands a blow to Abby’s face, and Abby bucks her hips up, throwing Ellie off balance, taking the pause in blow to grab Ellie’s sweater and toss her aside. She rolls across the grass, struggling to her knees. There’s mud clinging to her, and Abby lunges over with a desperate grab at Ellie’s ankles as she tries to stand. Ellie manages to scramble out of the way, getting to her feet. Abby stands and a hit lands on her cheek.

Abby shakes her head, spitting out some blood. Abby fakes a blow to Ellie’s ribs, the other girl dropping her guard for Abby to quickly follow through with a jab to Ellie’s nose. Her head snaps back and blood starts streaming from her nose. Ellie doesn’t seem to notice or care, charging Abby again and throwing a hook at Abby’s side. Abby absorbs the blow with a grunt, shoving Ellie away from her. 

“Fuck you,” Ellie gasps, her voice nasal and gurgling from the blood in her nose and mouth. She spits at Abby’s feet, blood spattering the tips of Abby’s boots.

“Right back at you,” Abby spits. She steps forward and grabs Ellie by the collar, landing three quick blows to her gut. Ellie strikes out with her hand under Abby’s guard; it was a smart move by Ellie and a dumb one by Abby, which her bruised ribs will remind her of in the morning.

The two girls fall to the group together in a heap of flying fists and bloody knuckles. There’s a sharp pain in her arm; the glass from the broken bottle. They must have fallen on top of Abby’s coat. They’re locked together now, and Abby can’t do anything but let Ellie rolls Abby onto her back, away from the glass. Abby vaguely registers a light shining on them, and then suddenly someone is hauling Ellie off of her. Abby scrambles back and gets to her feet, pressing her hand to the new split in her lip.

The tall Asian guy is holding Ellie back, clad in only his boxers and a t-shirt. Ellie looks feral, blood streaming down her face and staining her sweater as she snarls at Abby, struggling against her friend’s grip. Beside them, that other girl is trying to talk to Ellie; Dina, if Abby remembers her correctly from the first-year psych class they’d taken.

“Let me go, Jesse!” Ellie spits, blood flying from her mouth. Abby tries to regulate her breathing, her ribs sitting with that familiar ache. “Fucking let me go!”

“Ellie, calm down,” Dina says, and Abby watches as Ellie looks at the dark-haired girl and all the fight leaves her body. Jesse loosens his grip and Ellie wrenches her arms from his hands. Abby braces herself for another attack.

Ellie just stands there, her face covered in blood. She isn’t looking at any of them, and Abby keeps her fists clenched.

“I guess that’s my answer,” Ellie mumbles, and Abby furrows her brow. She’s definitely missing something. Ellie winces as she tries to wipe some of the blood away.

“Ellie, come inside,” Dina tries reaching for her but Ellie steps out of her reach.

“I’ve got to go,” Ellie mumbles, and she turns. It’s like she’d forgotten Abby was there; her eyes are shining when she looks at Abby, and there’s a small flash of surprise.

Abby doesn’t say anything, just steps aside as Ellie limps past her.

“Ellie, c’mon,” Jesse says, but she doesn’t give a hint of having heard him.

“Are you okay?” Abby looks up at the sound of Dina’s voice. Dina’s looking at her with…not sympathy, or anything that kind, but enough concern that Abby thinks it’s a sincere question.

“Yeah,” Abby says, “she doesn’t hit that hard.” It’s a lie; her body is aching and her hands are throbbing from so many bare-knuckled hits. She pulls the bit of glass out of her arm with ginger fingers, pressing her hand to try and stem the flow of blood.

“I’m sorry,” Dina says. Abby shrugs.

“Not your fault,” she says. “I’m gonna go…get cleaned up.” Abby turns and leaves the two of them alone outside. She hears the guy’s voice say something low, and at the top of the stairs she glances over her shoulder at them. Jesse’s got his arm around Dina’s shoulders, his chin resting on the top of her head. He’s watching Abby, and when he sees her looking at them, he gives her the smallest nod. Abby returns it, turning and unlocking the door.

It’s been enough of a night to last her a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was done, now it's here super fast. You all had such amazing reaction to the last chapter that I wanted to reward you with the chapter no one came here for! Abby! 
> 
> I like Abby's little perspectives - it's fun to write as someone who is so outside the main situation, and they get this little glimpse. It's fun. It's also fun to write older sibling type interactions with Abby and Lev; I wish my sister had taught me how to punch people. 
> 
> Thank you for everything; honestly, the last chapter's comments almost made me cry with how nice and lovely and thoughtful they were. You guys are simply the best!


	8. Ellie / the sound of your loneliness like a heartbeat drives you mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontations, but are there any resolutions?
> 
> Chapter title from "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac. 
> 
> TW; there's mentions of harder drug use in this chapter. There are no depictions of using anything but weed, but there are implications of it.

Ellie wakes up with the taste of blood in her mouth and a headache the size of North America. She sits up slowly, grabbing the half-empty beer bottle by her bed and taking a swig. It’s warm and flat, but it helps wash down the taste of iron that clings to her tongue.

“Fuck me,” Ellie mumbles, wincing as she unthinkingly pinches the bridge of her nose. “Ow, okay, _double_ fuck me.” She can feel the dried blood on her face, and the way the split skin of her knuckles pulls when she twitches her fingers. Her room smells like booze, and there’s a puddle of something beside her left foot. With great effort she rises, her right ankle twinging.

The walk to the staff bathroom is short but painful. The lights are too bright, and Ellie grimaces at her reflection.

“Jesus fuck,” Ellie sighs, running the tap and hissing as the cold water washes into the cuts across the backs of her hands. She forms a cup with her hands and starts splashing water onto her face, picking off the blood where it sticks in several stubborn places.

There’s not much she can do about the bruising that’s starting to show red across the bridge of her nose and under her eyes. Ellie catches sight of her blood-stained shirt in the mirror; with slow and small movements, she gets it stuck up around her head. There’s a kerfuffle as she tries to take it off all the way, chucking it in the sink and letting the water run over it. With the blood set overnight, there’s probably not much to be done to save it.

“Wasn’t I wearing a sweater?” Ellie asks her reflection. Her reflection doesn’t have a helpful answer. Ellie checks out her ribs, bruised yet again. Some remaining rational part of her brain tells her she’s lucky to have nothing be broken.

She trudges back to her corner of the workshop, grabbing a t-shirt from the big duffel that holds all her clothes. It used to belong to Joel’s brother Tommy, but he’d given it to Ellie for her tenth birthday before he had shipped out to Vietnam for his third tour. The ‘US ARMY’ lettering has faded from the canvas, and there are more than a few patches littered across the surface.

Ellie sits down on her cot, grabbing the bottle of Galaxy whiskey from the shelf that runs alongside her sleeping arrangements. She grits her teeth and pours some of the alcohol on her knuckles. It stings and it probably won’t actually help much in terms of cleaning the wounds, but it’s better than nothing. Maybe.

Last night was…a shit show. Ellie doesn’t remember getting drunk; she remembers drinking with Cat and her junkie roommates, then someone produced some cocaine and Ellie remembers refusing, and then drinking, and then refusing…and then it all kind of blurs together. She remembers Cat telling her to slow down, but still accepting the likely-sloppy kisses Ellie rained down on her. Ellie remembers feeling nothing, like her body felt numb to everything. Then she remembers being out on the street with a bottle of tequila in hand, stumbling the walk to the college campus. The tequila was lost somewhere along the way.

And she remembers Abby. And she doesn’t remember how the fight started, but she remembers the blows and wishing that she could just _feel_ something, but her brain never caught up to the pain. There were hands that pulled her up from the ground, restraining her. Jesse. It’s always Jesse, getting her out of trouble and trying to help.

Jesse, in his fucking underwear, who had come out of Dina’s dormitory building _with_ Dina.

It feels like another punch to the gut as Ellie remembers it. She takes a sip of the whiskey still clutched in her hand. It tastes like shit.

Behind her eyelids she can see the look that Dina gave her. The big, sad, apologetic eyes. The pleading with her to come inside. It felt like a shot right through her heart, seeing her act like she gave a shit about Ellie when they haven’t even spoken in a week.

Ellie tried catching Dina after her classes, but no luck. She’d called the dormitory phone, but Dina had somehow never been available. She’d even written a note and asked a girl outside the dorm to give it to Dina. The girl had agreed, but Ellie didn’t know if Dina ever got it.

Their kiss haunts Ellie. It feels like every waking moment she remembers how it felt to finally be wanted by the one person she craved it from, to know what it was like to feel and taste and _breathe_ Dina. It was like lying on cloud nine, and then the cloud immediately started raining shit and Ellie fell a thousand feet to the ground and became a splatter on the sidewalk.

A noise from outside the workshop startles Ellie out of her thoughts. Checking the clock radio on the ground, Ellie frowns. No one should be coming in yet, even if they wanted to be crazy early for their shift. She gets to her feet and pads quietly across the concrete floor, her feet sticky with spilled alcohol.

Opening the store room door slowly, Ellie peeks around the doorframe.

“Hello?” She calls out, her voice hardly more than a croak.

“Hello?” A voice calls back. A familiar voice. Ellie steps through the door and walks to the end of the short hallway, coming into the main arcade room. Sitting at a table in all her power-suited, shoulder-padded glory is Marlene.

“Marlene,” Ellie says, “uh, hi.”

“Ellie,” Marlene answers, and she’s looking at Ellie with narrowed eyes. “You look like crap.”

Ellie shrugs. “I fell.”

“And you’re here at nine am because…?” Marlene looks around them at the empty and dark arcade. Ellie shrugs again, fiddling with her fingers.

“I just wanted to be early,” she lies, “y’know, get a start. Never work a day in your life if you love what you do, right?” She tries for a smile, but it sends shooting pain up her jaw. That’s new.

Marlene sighs and holds out a hand. “Come sit.” Ellie walks over slowly. Marlene has always been kind of intimidating, with her perfectly coiffed hair and sharp clothes. She’s got that can-do, take care of business, don’t fuck with me attitude that Ellie both admires and fears.

Ellie sits across the table from Marlene, suddenly a hundred times more self-conscious about the state of her face.

“I’m going to give you one more chance to tell me what’s going on,” Marlene says, and Ellie feels about two feet tall under her gaze.

“I mean,” Ellie looks at where her hands are busy tapping on the table, “I guess…there’s some stuff. Going on.”

“Like how you ran away from home?”

Ellie groans. “You talked to Joel.”

“Of course I talked to Joel,” Marlene scoffs, “he calls my office four times a week asking if I’ve seen you, if you’re still showing up to work, if I know whether or not you’ve been eating properly. The man’s a real mother hen.”

“Jesus,” Ellie huffs. “Look, I’m sorry he’s been bugging you. I’m fine, okay? I’ve got everything handled.”

“Sure,” Marlene says, “that’s why your face looks like it ran into someone’s fist over and again. Because you’ve got everything handled.”

“What do you want, Marlene?” Ellie challenges, still not able to meet the older woman’s eyes.

“Where are you staying?” Marlene folds her hands together on the table.

“Um,” Ellie scratches at a little bit of residual dried blood on her knuckles, “the back room.”

Marlene sighs. “Where are you showering? And eating?”

“I use the college gym showers,” Ellie admits, “and I just eat…whatever. I don’t know. I don’t eat a lot.”

“That explains why you look so scrawny,” Marlene says. Ellie frowns, looking at her arms. They’re maybe a bit thinner than they used to be, but she’s always been a bit skin and bones.

“I can get my shit out of here,” Ellie says, “I’m fine to stay in my car.”

“Ellie, it’s almost winter,” Marlene says, “I’m not going to send you out onto the streets.” She sighs and shakes her head at the younger woman, and Ellie feels that itching sensation inside that you get when you’ve disappointed someone you look up to.

“I can take more shifts, to make up for squatting in your business,” Ellie offers.

“You already work full-time,” Marlene reminds her, “I’m not paying you overtime for sleeping on the premises.”

“Right,” Ellie mumbles. “Look, Marlene, I promise I’m still doing my job well, okay? If anything, I do it better because I’m always here. Employee of the month, really.” She tries to smile again, forgetting the promise of pain until it shoots sharp and hot through her face. Marlene must see her wince, because she stands up and goes behind the counter. Ellie watches Marlene scoop ice into a plastic bag, then wrap the bag in some brown paper towels. When she returns to the table, she offers the ice to Ellie, who takes it and holds it to the right side of her jaw.

“I need you to grow the fuck up, Ellie,” Marlene says, and it’s said with such care and concern that Ellie feels it like a fist around her heart. “I can’t be coming in and seeing you looking like this, wondering if you’re going to go out and get hurt even worse the next time, okay? You’re my senior employee. I need to know I can trust you.”

“You can,” Ellie says, “Marlene, you can trust me. Last night was…there’s a lot going on, but I’m not going to let it ruin me, or distract me from work. I swear.”

Marlene doesn’t look like she believes her. “Ellie, I want you to start taking over here. I can’t be here as often as I should, between my other properties and my own family. But now…” She trails off with a sigh.

“I promise,” Ellie says, “nothing is getting in the way of me doing my job. Give me a chance, Marlene. Please.”

***

It’s been two weeks of not talking to Dina.

Two weeks of fucking radio silence.

Two weeks of Ellie lying awake in the dark workshop and thinking over every detail of their first and last kiss.

Jesse has come in a few times, but Ellie ignored his attempts to be friendly and talk to her. It felt fake, it felt too forced to try and pretend like she didn’t kind of feel like punching him in the face. Ellie had treated him like any other customer, or she had pawned him off on whoever was working with her.

Ellie had seen Abby come in a few times. The blonde girl looks almost as rough as Ellie, her face littered with bruises, a clear stiffness to her shoulder. Her little gang of asshole teammates hasn’t been in; instead, Ellie has watched as Abby hung out with two younger kids, buying them snacks and watching them play games. It’s all kinds of confusing to see someone she hates so much be so…human.

Cat comes over a lot, always bearing a drink or something stronger, which Ellie refuses as often as she accepts. There’s something about being with Cat that distracts her from the hurt that lives like an old friend in her chest. Cat doesn’t ask her questions; they don’t talk much these days. Instead, they blast loud angry music and make bad decisions together. One night, Cat had shown up with a tattoo gun and ink. Ellie hadn’t thought twice about it, just took off her shirt and offered her skin up.

She hardly felt a thing.

It’s a beautiful tattoo, underneath the peeling skin and the way it itches. Cat is a great artist, the sweeping lines and careful shading dancing across the pale skin of Ellie’s arm. It makes Ellie feel strong.

Cat presses her into the cot that night, Ellie’s tattoo bandaged and raw. Cat’s mouth tastes like cigarettes, her lips slightly chapped. It feels familiar and wrong. Now that Ellie knows what it’s like to kiss Dina, it’s like every other feeling in the world is sub-par. Even when Cat’s fingers explore and draw out noises and shakes, Ellie feels removed from it.

Ellie refuses to go to Cat’s house; it feels like a hot bed of bad decisions waiting to be made. There’s safety in being in her own space, even with Cat’s chaos whirling in.

It’s on a Friday, two weeks of silence since the kiss, that Ellie remembers Dina’s invitation to the engineer’s dance. The decision comes easy after a drink, and Ellie finds a clean, plain t-shirt. A blazer is pulled on overtop, her jeans getting a quick wipe and her shoes a spit-polish. A flask is tucked into her pocket, and she heads out. Greg and Bonnie can handle a Friday night on their own, and Ellie gives them a wave as she leaves.

The walk is cold, and snow falls lightly. Late November snow never stays long, but it casts the dim streets of Jackson in a picturesque light. The vodka in her flask keeps her insides warm, and her feet carry her through town, onto campus, and to the engineering building.

Ellie had attended the dance last year, too. It was a lot of men, Dina being one of _maybe_ ten women in the program. Ellie had spent the whole night standing by the wall, watching as guy after guy asked Dina to dance. It had been fun to catch Dina’s eye and see her roll her eyes over the shoulder of whichever guy was spinning her around the floor. It felt like they were sharing some secret.

Now, standing at the foot of the stone steps, Ellie hesitates. Would Dina even want her there tonight? She was invited, but that was before…everything.

A couple of guys push past her, hardly seeming to notice her at all. They’re talking loudly, clearly drunk already. Ellie follows them up the steps and catches the door before it can close. With a deep breath, she steps into the hall. Muffled music drifts through to her ears, and Ellie follows it, her shoes squeaking on the linoleum.

Through the double doors, Ellie can see the masses of students and guests standing around, dancing, laughing and talking. She feels nauseous with nerves, and her hand shakes as she pushes through the doors.

The DJ is playing something by David Bowie, and Ellie can’t help her fingers tapping the rhythm where they’re shoved deep in the pockets of her blazer. Looking around, she’s thankful to see that she’s somewhere between not dressed up and dressed up too much.

She doesn’t see Dina, though.

Ellie starts winding around the edge of the room, hoping to see someone she recognizes. There are a few of Dina’s classmates that she’s familiar enough with to feel comfortable talking to; mostly the women, because the men always give her the creeps.

Near the punch bowl, Ellie sees a familiar face. She slides between two groups of men that are standing directly in the way of the punch with apparently no sense of their own obstruction.

“Hey, Astrid!” Ellie calls out. Astrid turns and sees Ellie. Her smile is friendly enough, and Ellie stops in front of her.

“Ellie,” Astrid greets, “it’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” Ellie says, “you, uh, enjoying the party?”

“Yeah,” Astrid says, “you?”

“Just got here,” Ellie says. She realises that Astrid is probably giving her that weird look because of the still healing bruises under her eyes and along her jaw. “Have you seen Dina? I was supposed to meet her here.”

It’s a lie, but Ellie doesn’t have the time to explain why she’s trying to track down Dina, all without divulging any private information to someone who is barely more than an acquaintance.

The puffy shoulders of Astrid’s dress rustle as she cranes her neck, looking around the room. “I think I saw her on the dance floor.”

“Cool,” Ellie nods her head and turns to look at the mess of people dancing. “Do you mind if I just…hang out here for a while?”

Astrid shrugs. “It’s a free country.” She takes a sip of her punch.

“So, how’s…class?” Ellie cringes at her own shitty small talk.

“It’s good,” Astrid says, and Ellie can feel how bored the other girl is, “lots of work. Looking forward to the holidays.”

“Right,” Ellie says, “that must be…nice. Do you go home for that?”

“Yup,” Astrid nods slowly.

“Cool.”

Ellie wishes the ground would open up and swallow her right here and get this terrible conversation to end.

Luckily, the ground stays shut and a tall guy with thick glasses asks Astrid to dance. Ellie thinks she should maybe be insulted by the speed with which Astrid accepts the invitation.

The music changes to ABBA, and Ellie groans. Dina loves ABBA. Ellie can’t deny the…danceability of their music, but it doesn’t hold a great place of love in her heart. She pulls out her flask and takes a sip. Her toe taps inside her shoe.

There’s a flash of dark hair, and Ellie’s eyes shoot over to it. It’s not Dina, just some other girl in a dress Dina definitely wouldn’t be caught dead in. With a sigh, Ellie wanders away from the punch, keeping her eyes on the dance floor.

She doesn’t know what she’ll do when she does spot Dina; her plan isn’t that fleshed out. But she knows she needs to get Dina to talk to her, or even just to listen to her. Being without Dina has been…torture. All feelings, and hormones, and memories of Dina’s tongue aside…Ellie misses her friend.

Her chance comes sooner than she thought it would. The music changes to something slow, and the crowd thins out. And, like some cheesy made-for-tv movie, Ellie sees Dina across the room. She looks beautiful in a shiny blue jumpsuit, a thick belt around her waist. Her hair is curly, falling in a clearly styled, but effortless-looking, wave down one side of her face.

Seeing her hits Ellie like a ten-ton truck.

Her heart is violent in the way it kicks her ribs. There’s an explosion of butterflies in her stomach. Her palms immediately start sweating. It’s highly possible she might throw up.

Summoning every ounce of courage that resides in her body, Ellie walks across the floor towards Dina. Dina still hasn’t noticed her, and Ellie stops a couple feet away from her, Dina’s back still turned as she laughs with some short guy.

Ellie waits, her fingers twisting together in front her.

Dina turns around.

“Hi,” Ellie says, breathless.

“Hi,” Dina replies, her eyes darting around. “You came.”

“Yeah,” Ellie clears her throat, “I just…I want to talk.”

Dina nods, her teeth digging into her bottom lip so hard Ellie sees it turn a little white. “Yeah, we should talk.”

Ellie looks down at her shoes. “I can wait. If you wanted to…dance.”

“Oh,” Dina shoves her hands into the pockets of her jumpsuit, “no, we should probably talk.” She looks over her shoulder at the back exit. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Ellie follows her through the crowd, head down. With every step she takes, her chest feels tighter.

Dina holds the door open for Ellie, and it slams shut behind them. Dina keeps walking until they come to an unlocked classroom. It’s like a tiny theatre, six ascending rows and a blackboard at the front behind a long island. The music from the dance hall is muffled but audible. 

Dina hops up onto the island and stares at Ellie. Ellie stands by the door. It’s dark, the only light coming in from the hallway. Dina looks like something from a dream, cast in shadows across half her face, twisting the rings she’s got on her right hand.

“So,” Ellie steps forward, “do you want to start?”

Dina shakes her head. “I don’t.”

It makes Ellie’s stomach drop. “Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “Look, I don’t…I don’t care that we kissed, okay?” The lie tastes like acid on her tongue. “I just want my friend back. I can’t handle…I miss you.”

Dina looks at her, and Ellie can’t tell if she’s imagining the shine of tears in Dina’s eyes.

“I’m really sorry, Ellie,” Dina says, and it’s quiet. Ellie steps forward again, five feet from Dina’s knees. “I feel like such an asshole.”

“You were high,” Ellie excuses for her, “it’s fine. I’m not like, reading into it or anything.”

Dina sniffs, and Ellie takes another two steps forward. If she reached out, she could put her hand on Dina’s knee.

“I’m sorry,” Dina repeats. "I don't know -,"

“Hey, don't worry about it," Ellie says, trying to produce a reassuring smile, "it's chill. You're forgiven." She doesn't want to hear the explanation, she doesn't want to know all the reasons Dina will never like her like that.

“You look like shit, by the way,” Dina says, her lips twitching up into a small smirk.

“Hey,” Ellie says, faking affront, “I put on clean clothes for this.”

“Not your clothes, dumbass,” Dina says, rolling her eyes, “your face. It’s like a kid finger-painted it with purple.” Dina lifts her hand, and Ellie thinks she might touch her, trace the line of bruises, but she lowers it, seeming to think twice.

“Oh,” Ellie lowers her head, “you should see the other guy.”

The joke falls flat. Dina sighs and her heels bounce off the wooden cabinet below her. Ellie sighs.

“So,” Ellie rocks back and forth on her feet, “you want to go back and dance?”

“With you?” Dina looks shocked.

“I mean,” Ellie backtracks, the look on Dina’s face like a thousand knives through her heart, “no? Maybe? We can just dance…beside each other?”

Dina hops down from the counter, and Ellie steps back before she hits the ground. They’re still pretty close, and Ellie catches whiffs of perfume and hairspray. She wonders if Dina can smell the alcohol on her breath.

“We can dance,” Dina says. She steps closer to Ellie and wraps her arms around Ellie’s neck, pulling her into a hug. Ellie’s arms rise to Dina’s waist, holding her close. The press of Dina’s cheek is warm against her ear. Ellie’s hands reach up Dina’s back, pressing against her shoulder blades.

When they pull back, Dina’s hands linger on Ellie’s shoulders. Ellie’s hands hover, barely brushing Dina’s waist.

“You look really nice, by the way,” Ellie says, and Dina smiles.

“Thanks,” she says, “I wasn’t about to wear a dress to this thing, with all those pervy fuckin’ first years hanging around.”

Ellie laughs, and shakes her head. “Can you blame them? It’s not like engineers are known for their game.”

“C’mon,” Dina says, chuckling at Ellie and pulling her hands back, “I want to see your moves in action.”

As they walk back to the party, Ellie offers Dina her flask. Dina takes it and gags at the clear alcohol. Ellie teases her, and Dina shoves Ellie. It feels like everything might be okay.

 _Private Eyes_ is fading over the speakers when Dina leads Ellie onto the dancefloor.

“This is all such lame music,” Ellie says.

“Shut up and dance,” Dina says.

A familiar guitar riff comes on, and Ellie can’t believe her shitty luck. It’s like the universe is conspiring against her.

“No fucking way,” Ellie mutters. She goes to turn and leave, but Dina grabs her wrist. It stings where her fingers press against the still fresh tattoo under her sleeve. “Dina, I am _not_ dancing to this.”

“Why not?” Dina bobs her head to the beats. “It’s groovy.”

“Don’t say groovy,” Ellie says automatically, “and just…no. I’ll get us some drinks.”

“Fine,” Dina relents, letting go of Ellie’s wrist. “No punch, I don’t trust anyone in this room to make a good punch.”

“You got it,” Ellie says, pushing through the gathering crowd. The music taunts her, and she has to resist going up and punching the DJ in the face just a little bit. As she grabs two cups and fills them up from the keg, Ellie grits her teeth and the pre-chorus kicks in.

_And she’s watchin’ him with those eyes  
_ _And she’s lovin’ him with that body  
_ _I just know it  
_ _Yeah, and he’s holding her in his arms  
_ _Late, late at night  
_ _You know, I wish that I had_

Ellie feels the cold drip of spilled beer on the back of her hand, and she curses, letting go of the tap.

“Fuck you, Rick Springfield,” she mutters.

He just keeps singing.

***

Things don’t go back to normal right away. Dina is suddenly, truly busy with school and exams, and Ellie has started taking on more responsibility at the arcade. Between learning how to do the scheduling and inventory orders, her brain feels taken up. Dina comes by once a week during her shifts, and things feel okay. There’s something like a wall that’s been put up between them, like every move either girl makes is thought through ten times before it can be put into action.

Then, before there’s a chance for them to hang out after Dina’s exams, she’s gone home for the holiday break. Ellie spends Christmas with Cat and her roommates, opening a present from the roommates that ends up being a goodie bag full of pot, coke, and ecstasy. Ellie takes the pot and leaves the rest with Cat. She doesn’t get Cat anything; Cat doesn’t get her anything, but they leave marks across each other’s bodies.

Ellie walks by Joel’s house a few times. The windows are dark; he’s probably gone to visit Tommy and Maria. She’s tempted to go inside and sleep on a comfortable bed, the key on her keyring burning a hole in her pocket as she stares at the empty house.

She can’t even make it past the front gate.

It’s the saddest way to spend the holidays that Ellie can think of.

Dina calls the arcade a few days after Christmas, and they talk for hours. Dina talks about her time home in New Mexico, bragging about the tan she’s going to come back with. Ellie bemoans the cold winter and the slow days at the arcade.

New Year’s Eve passes by in the busiest shift Ellie’s had in a while. Every kid flocks to the arcade, Ellie having had the brilliant idea to run the machines free for the two hours leading up to midnight. It’s brilliant for business; they sell food and drinks like crazy. It’s not so brilliant for Ellie, who has to spend the entire next day cleaning the whole arcade and maintaining all the cabinets. Who the fuck eats nachos while they play games? It’s a clear recipe for disaster.

It’s not until the fifth of January that she sees Dina again.

She comes into the arcade like a breath of summer air, her skin darker and hosting a whole new colony of freckles.

“You look like you went outside,” Ellie says, leading Dina into the back room.

“You look like you didn’t,” Dina counters. Ellie shrugs and puts her new tape in her deck. “Is this the Cure?”

“Yep,” Ellie says, hopping up to sit on the workbench, “I got a lot of tips on New Year’s.”

Dina grins and sits on the edge of Ellie’s cot. “Ever thought about maybe, I don’t know,” she looks around the dingy room, “saving up for your own place?”

“Why would I?” Ellie reaches over to the shelf and turns on her new lava lamp. “I have everything I need here. Plus, I’m always on hand at work.”

“Sure,” Dina says, “I guess that’s good.”

As they sit in silence and listen to the music, Ellie realises this is the first time Dina’s been in her room since…since the incident. That’s what Ellie’s been referring to it as, because every time she thinks too hard about the fact that they kissed…it’s distracting.

“Um,” Ellie points at the small nightstand beside Dina’s legs, “there’s some weed in the top drawer. If you wanted.”

“Oh,” Dina looks and shrugs, “that’s okay. I’m happy to just hang out.”

“Right,” Ellie says. There’s that unspoken tension that they both won’t acknowledge, both remembering the last time they got high in this room. Ellie sighs and taps her fingers against the wooden top of the workbench.

“Oh, have you seen Jesse?” Dina asks.

“No,” Ellie says, not wanting to admit that she’s still been avoiding him.

“He’s got a moustache,” Dina says, barely holding back her smirk.

“Oh god,” Ellie claps a hand over her mouth, “like, a full-ass moustache?”

Dina nods, “It’s awful. It’s so thin and scraggly. I think he thinks he looks like Tom Selleck.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Ellie says, snorting with laughter, “the poor dipshit.”

“I swear to god,” Dina says, leaning in and speaking in some sort of conspiratorial tone, “I can actually feel it when we kiss. It’s like kissing a really sad caterpillar.”

Ellie’s laughter fades abruptly. She clears her throat, “That’s, uh, really gross.” It feels like Dina just dumped a bucket of ice water on her head with those words.

Dina seems to notice her faux-pas, and she tries to change the subject. “So, you’re in charge of scheduling now?” Neither of them can look at each other, and Ellie tries to ignore the knife that twists in her gut.

“Uh huh,” she says, “it’s pretty bitchin’. I get to make Greg work all the shit shifts.”

Dina snorts at that. “You’re such a fair manager.”

“I try,” Ellie replies, with a dramatic sigh.

Slience falls between them, only the music stopping it from being totally awkward.

“Hey, maybe I will toke up,” Dina says with a weak smile, reaching into the nightstand grabbing one of the blunts Ellie has, already rolled and ready go. Dina pulls her lighter from her jeans pocket, the smooth motion of lighting it still mesmerizing to Ellie. After a few hits, Dina offers the joint to Ellie.

Ellie hops down off the workbench and takes it, lifting it to her lips and inhaling deeply. She stands a few feet away from where Dina sits, and the smoke settles between them.

“You can sit,” Dina says, shuffling over and patting the spot beside her. Ellie complies, taking another hit and holding it as long as she can. Dina takes the joint back and Ellie swears she hears a small moan as the smoke fills her friend’s lungs.

“Good?” Ellie asks.

“I couldn’t get high all break,” Dina explains, “so yeah, it’s fucking good.” She gives Ellie a lazy grin as she passes the blunt back.

“You poor hophead,” Ellie teases, and Dina snorts, bumping her shoulder against Ellie’s.

“It was a very large struggle, thank you for noticing,” Dina says, snarky through a smile.

“I didn’t know you had it so rough.” Ellie kills the joint and puts the end out on the metal bar of her cot.

The tape ends, and Ellie gets up to flip it to the other side. Once the music is playing again, she sits back down and looks at Dina, tracing her profile with her eyes.

“You’re staring,” Dina says, and Ellie flushes, looking down at her feet.

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“It’s fine,” Dina says, and Ellie looks at her again. This time Dina meets her eyes, and Ellie feels a shiver run up her spine. “Did you…did you talk to Joel?”

Ellie shakes her head. “He wasn’t home.”

“You went to his house?"

“I walked by his house,” Ellie corrects, “it’s on the way here from Cat’s.”

“Oh,” Dina looks at the far wall again, breaking their eye contact. “So, you spent some time at Cat’s?”

“Yeah,” Ellie says with a shrug, “I didn’t have anyone else.”

“How was that?” Dina asks, and Ellie sighs.

“It was pretty fuckin’ depressing.”

Dina leans her head on Ellie’s shoulder. There’s no scent of hairspray on her today, just the clean smell of shampoo. “I’m sorry.”

Ellie cautiously leans her head on top of Dina’s. “It’s cool. They gave me cocaine.”

“Did you take it?” Dina’s voice sounds curious and Ellie pokes her in the ribs.

“No, you dillweed,” she laughs. Dina chuckles.

“I thought it was a fair question,” she says.

“Just say no, Dina,” Ellie says, and Dina laughs.

“Fuck you, Nancy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine. Three updates in three days. It's a roll. 
> 
> I couldn't leave you guys hanging, and I also couldn't leave myself hanging. Isn't that perfect?
> 
> I'm heading out to the wilderness for the weekend, so I wanted to give you this before then. You have all been so amazing and your comments are like the oxygen I breathe. The discourse! The drama! The opinions! I love it all!
> 
> Thank you a thousand times over. You're all wonderful and I hope you have great weekends!


	9. Ellie / chance is buried just below the blinding snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Walk Out To Winter" by Aztec Camera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW; implication of substance abuse; mentions of abortion

Ellie pops her head around the edge of the doorway. The smell of motor oil and gasoline fills her nostrils, dank and overwhelming. There’s loud music blasting over a set of beat up speakers; Elton John, Ellie thinks. The shop is empty except for the familiar figure bent over the workbench in the back. Ellie grins and shoves her hands in her pockets as she walks over.

Dina doesn’t turn around, swaying energetically to the music. Ellie taps her shoulder, and Dina startles at the contact, dropping the…the whatever on the table.

“Jesus, you scared me,” Dina says over the music.

“Sorry,” Ellie says, not really sorry at all. Dina leans over to the stereo and turns the volume down.

“You’re early,” Dina says, grabbing a cloth and wiping her hands on it. She leaves dark smudges on the rag, tossing it aside.

“Actually, I’m fifteen minutes late,” Ellie says.

Dina frowns, tightening the arms of the coveralls that are tied around her waist. “Fuck, sorry. I totally lost track of time.” There’s a streak of grease across her forehead, sitting just under the rolled-up kerchief she’s got holding her hair back, and Ellie purses her lips to suppress the fond smile that creeps up.

“No big deal,” Ellie says. “Movie doesn’t start for another half hour.” Ellie peeks over Dina’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, just trying to fix this radiator,” Dina says. “Actually, I have something to show you.” Her smile is mischievous and Ellie sighs.

“It better not be more of Eugene’s freaky pornos,” she warns, following Dina through the shop.

“Come on, that was hilarious,” Dina says with a laugh.

“It was haunting,” Ellie counters. They pass by a car with no wheels, up on some sort of jacks. Dina stops in front of what looks like fifty-percent of a motorcycle.

“What do you think?” Dina asks, turning to Ellie as she walks around the other side of the hunk of metal, her arms wide as her smile.

“I think it’s not gonna be going anywhere anytime soon,” Ellie says, tilting her head in confusion.

“No duh, dillweed,” Dina says, “but when it’s done. What do you think, y’know, of me riding it?”

Ellie’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. “Oh. Uh, wow. That would be…”

“Cool? Radical? Righteous?” Dina is nodding enthusiastically, her hand running lovingly along the handlebars.

Ellie pictures it for a second; Dina, in a leather jacket, sitting astride the motorcycle and pulling her helmet off, hair tumbling down around her shoulders.

“Yup,” Ellie says, swallowing down the image, “totally choice.”

“Eugene said I could keep it if I could fix it up,” Dina continues, oblivious to Ellie’s inner thoughts.

“That’s cool,” Ellie says.

“Can you imagine my mom’s face if I came home on this over the summer?” Dina seems all too excited about this, and it’s Ellie’s turn to roll her eyes.

“You’re going to kill her,” Ellie says. “Now, c’mon, we should get going. I don’t want to be stuck in the front rows again.”

“That was one time,” Dina says, “get over it.”

“It was _Star Wars_ , Dina!” Ellie exclaims, “and my neck was craned the whole time, how do you expect me to enjoy a movie when my whole spine is twisted?”

“Jesus, don’t have a cow,” Dina laughs, “I’ll go get changed. Hang tight.”

Ellie sits on the hood of the wheel-less car, watching Dina disappear into a back room and letting out a breath. Being around Dina these days feels like a careful balancing act. Both of them are holding back, it’s clear to Ellie that Dina is policing her actions and her words. Ellie’s doing it too, even more than she used to. The line had been crossed, and now it felt like that line had been pushed even further back. There’s way fewer small touches, barely any of Dina’s usual pre-kiss cuddling tendencies.

It hurts more than Ellie thought it would.

She thinks that if she knew this would be the result of that kiss, she would go back in time and actively shove Dina off of her. It’s a thousand times worse when you know what you’re missing.

Her fingers dance over the sleeve that covers her tattoo. Unable to work up the courage to show it to Dina yet, Ellie has been careful to always keep it covered. She can’t say why, but Ellie knows the ensuing conversation might be a bit like walking through a minefield. Dina has always been quick to judge the decisions Ellie makes when she’s around Cat.

Dina comes back, a sweatshirt and jeans replacing the coveralls and tank top. Ellie can’t help the flutter of disappointment at losing the sight of Dina’s arms, the soft skin over the gently toned muscle.

“Okay, let’s bounce,” Dina says, grabbing her jacket from a hook near the door. Ellie holds the door open for Dina, who locks up behind them.

The movie theatre is only a ten-minute drive, Ellie’s car protesting the cold the whole way there.

“Please let me fix the Smelta,” Dina begs as they stand in line for their tickets. “Ellie, I promise, I could make that car like, not _good_ , but better.”

“My car is fine, Dina,” Ellie says.

“You do know that it’s not supposed to make those noises, right?” Dina imitates the noises, something like a seagull choking. “That’s not a car noise, Ellie. That’s a cry for help.”

Ellie ignores her and steps up to the ticket window. “Two, please.”

“Oh, no,” Dina tries to protest, “I can buy my own.”

“Two,” Ellie reiterates. Dina huffs but doesn’t protest again. Ellie forks over the cash and takes the tickets. They squeeze through the door, and Dina insists on buying popcorn for the two of them. Ellie goes to find some good seats. They’re early enough to have a decent selection, and Ellie finds some pretty decent seats near the middle. Dina comes soon with a bag of popcorn, sitting down beside Ellie just as the pre-show starts up.

“I hate that dancing hot dog,” Dina mutters through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Seems like a tool,” Ellie agrees, and Dina snorts.

The movie starts up, and Ellie wishes she had pushed back harder on their selection. Not that romantic comedies are all bad, but she’d take kick-ass action over dumb straight people pining any day of the year.

“This kid is so annoying,” Ellie whispers to Dina. Dina nods her agreement. They both reach for popcorn at the same time, their hands bumping. Ellie’s heart jumps, and she pulls her hand back like lightning. Dina doesn’t seem to notice.

When the lights finally come up, Ellie sighs and looks at Dina.

“Out of ten?” She asks.

Dina scrunches up the popcorn bag. “Six. Enjoyable, but predictable. And I can’t _stand_ that kid.”

“Agreed,” Ellie says, and they stand together. Dina sways a little on her feet, and Ellie holds her hand out a few inches behind Dina, just in case. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dina says, shaking her head slightly, “just a head rush. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

They walk in silence out of the theatre. Ellie watches Dina carefully; she seems a little unsteady still, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat.

“Am I taking you home?” Ellie asks as she starts her car.

“Probably should,” Dina answers, “I have a quiz I should really study for.” Ellie nods and takes the left turn to head towards campus.

As they wait at a red light, Ellie looks at Dina and frowns at the pallid tone of her face. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Dina says, waving Ellie’s concern away, “I’m probably just tired. Long day.”

“I can take you to the clinic,” Ellie offers, but Dina shakes her head.

“Ellie, it’s fine,” Dina insists. Ellie sighs, and the rest of the drive is quiet, the radio playing softly.

When they arrive outside the dorms, Dina pats Ellie’s shoulder in thanks and gets out of the car slowly. She waves from the top of the steps, and Ellie waves back. She can’t help the niggling in the back of her brain that says something is really wrong. But she just drives back to the arcade, reminding herself that it’s not her place. Dina’s a grown woman; she can take care of herself.

***

Ellie sits in the store room, a joint half-smoked discarded on the table. She’s off the floor tonight, Sam and Greg running the show for her. Her thoughts drift lazily from topic to topic, but they always come back to Dina.

It’s embarrassing, to realise she’s pining away after a girl who won’t ever love her back the way Ellie craves. It feels like a shameful secret, like something she has to keep deep inside. Their friendship means more than Ellie can justify risking because she can’t control her stupid feelings.

No matter how much her heart aches and burns and yearns.

Her self-pitying thoughts of unrequited love are interrupted by Sam sticking his head into the store room.

“Ellie?” He calls out. Ellie gets to her feet and sticks her head out from behind the shelf.

“What’s up, dude?”

“There’s a guy here to see you,” Sam says, “says it’s urgent.”

Ellie frowns and climbs over the beanbag, meeting Sam at the door. “Jesse?” She asks, but Sam shakes his head.

Ellie follows him out to the arcade, and her stomach drops when she sees the familiar figure standing by the change machine.

“Sam,” Ellie growls, and Sam holds up his hands in innocence, quickly heading back to his post at the concession counter.

Joel turns, and Ellie is taken aback by how old he looks. Has he always looked this old? She doesn’t remember his beard being so white, or all those lines on his face. She steels her nerves and walks up to him.

“What do you want?” She snaps before he can say anything.

“I wanted to give you this,” Joel says, catching on to her complete disinterest in conversation. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a white envelope. Ellie takes it, not looking at it.

“Anything else?” She asks, and the way her stomach sinks is hard to ignore. Part of her is screaming at her to accept the olive branch Joel is always offering, screaming to get that connection back.

It never screams loud enough.

“Just want to make sure you’re okay,” Joel says. “You eatin’ okay?”

“It’s not really any of your business,” Ellie says, folding her arms across her chest.

“No, I guess not,” Joel sighs.

“I have to get back to work,” Ellie lies, and Joel nods. “Feel free to not come back.” The words drip with venom, and Ellie can feel the hot anger under her skin, familiar and welcome.

“Take care of yourself, kiddo,” Joel says, and then he’s turning and walking away. Ellie stares after him, the nickname gutting her and knocking the breath from her lungs.

She waits until he’s out the front door, and then she hurries to the back room. The envelope is tossed onto the workbench, and she leans back against the wall, taking even breaths.

The white paper of the envelope is taunting her, and she picks it back up, turning it over and reading the return address.

“Oh shit,” Ellie mumbles. Her eyes stuck to the print, she stumbles over to her cot and sits down. Shaky hands open the envelope, ripping it and pulling a neatly folded letter from its depths. The paper crinkles as she unfolds it, and her fingers trace the handwriting.

_Dear Ellie,  
_ _I hope this letter finds you well. I don’t know if you even read these anymore, but I felt a strong desire to write you.  
_ _It’s been nearly eighteen years since I’ve seen you, and every day I have thought of you, my one perfect thing. I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, or if you care at all about me. I can only hope that you will try to understand and know that I only wanted to do right by you.  
_ _I’m being released on probation in March. I’ve enclosed the address of the house I’ll be staying. I hope you’re still living with Joel, or that he will know where to find you and give you this letter. If you can find it in your heart to pay me a visit, that would make all of these years worth every second of pain.  
_ _I love you, Ellie._  
_Your mother,  
_ _Anna_

Ellie lowers the letter and blows a breath through her lips. Her heart pounds in her chest, and she feels something warm trail down her cheek. She lifts a hand and wipes away the tears she hadn’t noticed fall.

On the back is an address in Denver. Ellie puts the letter down on the cot beside her, holding a hand over her mouth. Her hands won’t stop shaking. Shallow breaths echo in the quiet room, and Ellie rubs at her eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears that persists.

Joel had given her this. After all these years of lying, of hiding, he had given her this letter. Ellie doesn’t know how to unpack that, not while she’s trying to understand the implications of her mother being released.

There are a thousand questions she has for the woman. Her mind swims with them, whirling around like grains of sand in a riptide.

It sends her reeling, and Ellie grabs the bottle of whiskey from the shelf behind her, taking a long drink. The burn grounds her, and she takes another drink.

Her hands shake as she raises the bottle for a third time, and she stuffs the letter under her pillow. Out of sight, out of mind.

Joel’s face dances before her eyes, the lines she never noticed before, the gray of his beard. The sadness in his eyes as she dismissed him.

She takes another drink.

Does she look like her mother? Is that where she got her green eyes, her hair that shines auburn in the right light? When they laugh, do they sound the same? What would her mother think of her, of what she’s become?

She falls asleep with dreams of women with her eyes, of Joel with white hair, and of dark rooms surrounded by steel bars.

***

Jesse corners her as February shows its face, coming into the arcade and loitering until close. Ellie knows she can’t avoid him forever, and she doesn’t know how much he knows. Dina is pretty clear on the line between hooking-up and boyfriend, but he’s still a close friend to her.

Once Bonnie has left, Ellie sits across from Jesse at one of the little food court tables.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” he says, “you ready to stop being a child and talk to me?”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Okay, dad.”

“I’m worried about you,” Jesse says, cutting to the chase as he always does. “Dina says you’re still living in the back room?”

“Yeah,” Ellie shrugs, “so?”

“Ellie, if you need somewhere to stay, you should have asked,” Jesse says. His eye are earnest as ever, and the thin moustache on his upper lip twitches.

“I don’t,” she says, “besides, what do you care? I’m fine.”

“My friends’ problems are my problems,” Jesse says, and Ellie hates that she can’t pick out a single ounce of sarcasm.

She looks at her hands on the table. “You’re such a sap.”

“Well, my friends have a lot of problems,” he says. Ellie lets out a short, quiet laugh.

“Look,” Ellie takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry. I was just…I dunno. Embarrassed?”

“I get it,” Jesse says. “Worried me, though. Dina says you’ve been seeing Cat again?”

Ellie nods. “A bit. We’re not like, dating or anything. Just hanging out.”

“She’s not like, trying to get you back on anything, right?”

Ellie huffs. “Chill.”

“Ellie, I’m serious,” Jesse says, and the set of his brow definitely supports that.

“So am I,” Ellie defends. “I’m not on anything, okay? Cat isn’t…well, I don’t know if she is, but it’s not like I’m hanging out with that much.”

Jesse sighs. “Okay. Sorry for bringing it up.”

“Good.”

They sit in tense silence, and Jesse taps his fingers on the table. Ellie scratches at her nose.

“Hey, speaking of,” Jesse says, and Ellie can’t imagine where he’s going with this, “have you seen Dina?”

“We went to the movies a week ago,” Ellie says, “why?”

“She was supposed to meet me for lunch today, but she didn’t show,” Jesse says. “It’s not like her.”“She probably just got distracted by school,” Ellie says, “she does that.”

“I guess,” Jesse says. “Still, if you see her, can you let her know I’m looking for her?”

“Sure,” Ellie says.

“I think I’m gonna ask her to go steady,” Jesse says, and Ellie’s heart shatters into a thousand pieces.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Jesse rubs at the back of his neck, “things have been pretty good, and I think this time she might say yes.”

Ellie nods, biting the inside of her bottom lip. “I’m, um, I’m happy for you.”

“Do you think she’s ready for it?” He looks at Ellie with wide, innocent eyes.

So, Dina didn’t tell him about their kiss. Ellie shrugs.

“I guess there’s not any harm in asking,” she says, and her throat feels two sizes too small for her voice.

Jesse grins and nods. “I feel good about it.”

Ellie forces out a smile, hoping it doesn’t look as sickly as she feels. There’s a stake in her heart, twisting with every word Jesse says about Dina.

When he leaves, Ellie sits on her cot, elbows on her knees and head hanging. The walls feel too small, it feels like the room is trying to suffocate her. The idea of Dina going with Jesse, of the two of them becoming that official, that real…it sends a wave of nausea over her.

There had never been an expectation of Dina ever actually choosing her, Ellie knows that. That kiss was just…Dina.

It still feels like a vise around her heart, squeezing and squeezing with every breath she takes, with every time Jesse’s voice replays in her head. Ellie rocks forward and back, taking shallow breaths. Her brain is playing a movie in her head; Dina in a white dress, Jesse in a tuxedo, then a house and two kids, and Ellie standing off to the side watching. His arm around her waist, her head thrown back in laughter.

“Fuck,” Ellie gasps, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. Her knee starts shaking, and she inhales sharply through her nose. “Get it together.” Rising to her feet, Ellie grabs her jacket and heads outside.

The cold air burns her lungs as she gulps down mouthfuls of it, trying to calm her racing heart. Her feet carry her to her car, her hands start the engines, and her heart drives to the campus.

Her wheels scrape the curb as she parks. Her hands shake as she opens her door.

There’s no plan in her mind, just a desperate need to see Dina, to hear from her what she’s going to do about Jesse, to see her and just…

Ellie shakes her head and looks at the imposing silhouette of the dormitories, a few windows lit up. Her shoes crunch the snow as she walks, cold air stinging her cheeks. There’s someone sitting on the steps, and as Ellie nears she can hear the sniffle of tears.

The person lifts their head, and Ellie can’t help the way her upper lip twitches when she sees it’s Abby. But then she notices the tears staining her cheeks, the red rimming her eyes, and there’s an undeniable pull of kinship that Ellie feels.

“Uh, hey,” Ellie says, her hands in her pockets.

“Hey,” Abby says, and Ellie can tell she’s trying to hide her tears, trying to be subtle as she wipes her eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Ellie shrugs, not sure how to end that sentence.

“You didn’t,” Abby says. She looks Ellie up and down, and narrows her eyes. “You gonna punch me again?”

Ellie kicks her foot at the ground. “Nah.”

“Good.” Abby sniffs, and Ellie wishes she was anywhere but here.

“Fuck,” she whispers to herself, cursing the drip of empathy that’s hitting her heart. “Are you okay?”

Abby scoffs, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. “You don’t have to pretend to care. I don’t give a shit if you care.”

“I don’t care,” Ellie snaps back, “I’m just not a total dick, obviously you’ve been crying.”

Abby glares at her, but it lacks the usual venom. “I don’t want to talk to _you_ about it.”

“Good,” Ellie says, “because I don’t want to hear it.”

Abby nods, and Ellie hesitantly sits down on the other side of the steps. “So, what are you doing here?” Abby asks, and Ellie shrugs.

“Nothing,” Ellie says. “It’s a free country.”

“If you’re looking for your little girlfriend, she’s not here,” Abby says.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Ellie says quickly, her tongue heavy at the words.

“Okay,” Abby mumbles. Ellie taps the toes of her shoes together, the rubber making a quiet noise as it hits.

“So,” Ellie clears her throat, “what are you crying about?”

“Fuck off,” Abby says, but it sounds half-hearted.

“Look,” Ellie sighs and looks over at the other girl, “I don’t like you. Your face makes me want to kill myself, and then you. But I’m not a monster, okay? I’m just…I’m here, y’know, so if you want to just talk to someone about this,” Ellie gestures at Abby, “then I’ll sit here in silence, like I was planning on doing anyways. And next time we see each other, we can get back to the punching.”

Abby looks like she can’t believe a word Ellie is saying, and Ellie supposes she can’t blame her. But there’s no fight left in her tonight, just an empty resignation like a blackhole in her chest. She sits and waits, the cold concrete freezing her ass through her jeans.

“You ever just,” Abby starts, and she takes a shaky breath, “love someone you shouldn’t?”

Ellie can’t stop the laugh that comes out. “Every fuckin’ day.”

“Sucks,” is all Abby says to that, and Ellie nods. Abby looks over at her, and Ellie holds her gaze. “You can talk, too. If you want.” It’s awkward, and Ellie looks away, staring at her car.

“I think you covered it.”

Abby stands then, and she turns to go inside. “Hey, Williams?”

Ellie turns to look at Abby over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I’d be cool,” Abby says, “if we stopped beating the shit out of each other.”

Ellie smirks. “Yeah, that might be okay.”

Abby nods at her, and then she’s gone, disappearing into the building. Ellie exhales slowly.

“Fuckin’ can’t believe it,” Ellie mumbles to herself as she stands. “Why did she have to be so fucking human?”

***

Ellie doesn’t hear from Dina until two days later. It’s just after close, and Ellie is mopping up the entryway of the arcade. A knock on the locked doors pulls her attention, and she leans the mop against the wall.

Dina is standing at the doors, her arms wrapped around herself. Ellie opens the doors and Dina steps inside.

“Hi,” Ellie says. She sees Dina’s bottom lip shake, and Ellie reaches out a hand to rest on Dina’s shoulder. “Dina?”

Dina shakes her head. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah,” Ellie nods, leaning around her and locking the doors. They walk back through the store room to Ellie’s small hovel. Ellie awkwardly tries to clean up a bit, kicking some dirty clothes under her bed. Dina stands in the middle of the room.

Ellie sits on her cot, watching as Dina worries her bottom lip with her teeth. Finally, Dina looks at Ellie with wide eyes.

“I did something,” Dina says, and Ellie nods, trying to encourage Dina to keep talking. “It’s not…it _shouldn’t_ be bad; I don’t feel bad about it…I did the right thing. I know I did.”

“Okay,” Ellie says. It’s not like Dina to ramble in this way, to be so uncertain and nervous.

“I thought I just wouldn’t talk about it,” Dina says, with a dry laugh, “but it’s only been a day and a half, and I just…I can’t keep this secret, y’know?” Ellie waits, watching as Dina starts pacing. “I did the right thing. I can’t have…I’m not…”

Ellie stands as she sees the first tear slip from the corner of Dina’s eye. She moves to step closer, but Dina steps back, holding up a hand and halting Ellie in her tracks.

“And then Jesse,” Dina shakes her head, “he’s such an _asshole_ , asking me to be his girlfriend when he knows I don’t…I’ve told him, I’ve told him so many _fucking_ times. That’s not what I want, I don’t love him like that. He’s not…he’s not what I want.”

Ellie can’t help the flutter of hope that sparks in her chest. She hates herself for it, that she takes any sense of joy from Dina’s clear state of distress.

“He asked you to go steady?” Ellie asks, trying to clarify even though she knows the answer.

Dina nods. “We’re done. I can’t keep seeing him and letting him get his hopes up like this.”

Ellie thinks it’s a bit late for that, that Dina should have stopped it the first time Jesse made clear his feelings, but she holds her tongue.

“I need you to promise,” Dina steps forward and grabs Ellie’s hands, “I need you to _promise_ me that you’ll still love me after I tell you this.”

Ellie can’t help the internal balk when Dina says ‘love’, and there’s a rush of fear. Does Dina know?

“I…” Ellie nods, “of course.”

Dina nods and laces their fingers together, her grip almost too tight. “I went to Colorado.”

“Okay,” Ellie says, trying to piece together why Colorado would be such a serious place to be.

“I went to Colorado,” Dina repeats, “and I got an abortion.”

The words fall like stone in the quiet room. Ellie’s mouth feels dry, and she tries to take all the information in.

“You’re,” she stumbles, “you were pregnant?”

Dina nods. “I figured it out when we went to the movies.”

“And you got a…an abortion?”

Dina flinches at the words, but she nods again. Ellie takes a big breath, looking down at where their hands are still linked together.

“Jesse’s?” Ellie asks.

“Yeah,” Dina says.

“Does he know?”

“No,” Dina shakes her head, and Ellie exhales heavily. “I know,” Dina says, “I’m a terrible fuckin’ person.”

“You’re not,” Ellie says quickly, “I just…this is a lot. To process.”

“Do you hate me?”

Ellie looks at Dina’s face then, the fear in her voice clear and reflected in her eyes. Ellie doesn’t hesitate then; she just pulls Dina into her arms and hugs her close. She feels Dina deflate in her arms, and Ellie takes her worry and her stress and she burdens it for her.

“Never,” Ellie mumbles, and Dina’s arms tighten around her shoulders. “I could never hate you, Dina.” Dina’s forehead presses into the crook of Ellie’s neck, her skin warm.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Dina asks, the question almost lost to Ellie’s skin. Ellie nods, mumbling an affirmative answer. They stand there for a minute longer, holding each other like lifelines.

Eventually, they pull apart. Ellie gives Dina some shorts and a t-shirt, and Dina climbs under the covers on the cot. Ellie changes as well, and she sits on the edge of the small bed.

“I’ll go sleep on the beanbags,” Ellie says, but Dina shakes her head and grabs her wrist, tugging until Ellie is lying beside her. There’s a lot of shuffling, Dina pulling the blankets over both of their bodies, tucking herself into Ellie’s side, her head on Ellie’s chest. Ellie puts all of her energy into trying to tame her racing heart.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so shitty,” Dina says, “after we kissed.”

It’s the first time either of them have said it out loud, have acknowledged what happened that night that feels so long ago, but Ellie can remember like it was yesterday.

It isn’t what Ellie was expecting to hear.

“It’s okay,” she says, the arm under Dina’s neck straining to gently pat Dina on the shoulder.

“It’s not,” Dina says, “and I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Ellie smiles, and that little spark of hope turns to warm embers in her chest. “You should get some sleep.” Dina sighs and squirms closer, her leg draped across Ellie’s thighs.

“We’ll talk about the tattoo in the morning,” Dina mumbles, and Ellie’s eyes fly open.

“Fuck,” she mutters, looking at her bare arms. What a dumb slip-up, putting on a t-shirt to sleep in.

“It’s okay,” Dina says through a yawn, “it’s kind of hot.”

Ellie’s cheeks heat up, and she purses her lips to stifle her smile. Dina’s breathing evens out, and Ellie soon follows, her cheek resting on the top of Dina’s head.

Dina stays with Ellie for the next three nights. There’s an air of sadness in everything she does, and Ellie doesn’t know how to help. She tries her best, telling Dina dumb jokes and playing songs on her guitar. It can’t erase the bags under eyes, but Ellie counts every small smile as a victory.

They talk about Ellie’s tattoo, and Dina seems equal parts disapproving and intrigued. Her fingers trace the lines of the fern, and Ellie feels her every touch like fire. Dina complains of a few small cramps, and she grumbles about the bleeding that she hadn’t been expecting. Ellie doesn’t ask any questions, just does her absolute best to be a steady support.

***

When Dina heads back to campus, Ellie feels her absence like a hole in her heart. There had been a degree of fantasy about the days spent together; Ellie allowed herself to imagine a world in which Dina had chosen this, had kissed her and they had fallen in love and Dina was here for more than just comfort.

They linger in the car outside Dina’s dormitory together, and Ellie waits patiently while Dina steels herself.

“Will you make sure Jesse is okay,” Dina says, “after all of this?”

Ellie nods. “Yeah, of course.” Dina reaches over and touches Ellie’s knee, like a five-thousand-volt shock.

“Thank you, Ellie,” Dina says, “really. For everything.”

“Anytime,” Ellie says. Dina smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Hey.” Ellie puts her hand on top of Dina’s. “Jesse’s a good guy. He’ll understand, even if he doesn’t like it.”

“Maybe,” Dina says, entirely unconvinced. “I feel like I’m just giving him even more reasons to hate me.” Dina looks at Ellie, and there’s something that runs between them as their eyes meet.

“I’ll beat him up for you,” Ellie says with a wry grin, “if he’s a dickhead.”

Dina laughs, small and short. She leans across the centre console and Ellie’s heart stops as Dina’s lips brush her cheek.

“Thank you,” she says again, like a secret. Her hand squeezes Ellie’s knee, and then she’s grabbing her bag and getting out of the car. There’s a gentle snowfall, and it sprinkles across Dina’s dark hair like icing sugar. When she turns to wave to Ellie from the top of the steps, Ellie’s heart catches in her throat. She honks her horn in response, smiling as she sees Dina grin and shake her head.

Back in the safety of her dark room, Ellie lies on her cot and stares at the ceiling, a joint dangling from her fingers. _Pink Floyd_ plays through her speakers, filling her ears. Her heart feels heavy, weighed down with a thousand things and no one to share them with. The idea of calling Cat dances through her mind, but it goes as quickly as it came.

Everything feels too big, and Ellie takes a long hit, slowly blowing the smoke up to the ceiling. There’s an itch inside of her, one she hasn’t felt for a long time. Her fingers twitch, and she clenches her jaw. The smoke that fills her lungs has to be enough, she reminds herself. The darkness of her room looms, and she digs the nails of her free hand into her palm.

This has to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Touching on a lot of heavy stuff here. I don't know what else to say beyond that.
> 
> Thank you to all of you for the support and enthusiasm for this story - it is holding a very special place in my heart. 
> 
> As always, ehefic really helped me out with this one. What would I do without her!
> 
> I hope everyone gets to enjoy their labour day weekend, if you're somewhere that exists. If not, have a wonderful normal weekend!! And end of week. It's only Wednesday, apparently. 
> 
> Thank you all :)


	10. Ellie / you're taking a gamble on a little sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is a construct.
> 
> Chapter Title from "Get It While You Can" by Janis Joplin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW; heavy drug use. No descriptions of using, but it is talked about and the effects of it are addressed in a more descriptive way. If this is a problem for you, skip the flashback sections as marked by the italicized lines.

_Summer 1981_

Ellie falls back on the bed, exhaling heavily. Her body feels good. It’s a lightness, that detachment, that…that fuckin’ feeling like she can understand everything. Beside her, she vaguely registers Cat, her hand loosely wrapped around Ellie’s arm. Ellie can barely feel it, her nerves dulled and her skin feeling like it belongs to someone else.

“You were right,” Ellie says, and her voice comes to her from across the room, “this is…good.”

Cat’s face appears above her, dark eyes like deep pools swimming in front of Ellie. The ceiling above her looks like ocean waves.

“This is fuckin’ great,” Cat says. Her voice fills Ellie’s ears like molasses. “Sweetheart, just you wait. This is kid’s stuff.”

Ellie feels her lips pull into a grin. Cat’s lips brush hers. One of them has chapped lips, but Ellie can’t tell who it is.

“So, what do we do now?” Ellie asks, pushing herself up onto her elbows. Her forehead bumps Cat’s, but she barely feels it.

“Just enjoy it,” Cat says, her hands roaming Ellie’s body. Ellie takes a deep breath and tries to find her nerve endings, watching Cat’s hands slide under her shirt and push it up her torso.

“We should go for a walk,” Ellie says, looking out the window at the bright moon. “Look at the fuckin’ moon, man. That’s like…it’s crazy.”

Cat follows her gaze and sits up. “Oh. Fuck me. Yeah, let’s go.”

Ellie doesn’t remember how they made it outside. She can remember seeing Cat’s roommates heating up something - a spoon? - but Cat leads her outside. Ellie looks down and sees she’s not wearing any shoes.

The dirt of the lawn feels like a cloud beneath her toes.

They walk forever and for no time at all.

Cat pulls Ellie to sit beneath a tall oak tree, and Ellie’s fingers run through the grass, over and over. There’s the press of Cat’s arm against her own as they lean together.

“Dude,” Cat says, pointing out towards the dark street, “isn’t that your friend?”

Ellie squints, looking through the curtain of dancing velvet that the night brings. “Oh, shit.”

It’s like there’s a ring of light that walks towards her. Ellie reaches out and tries to grab at it, but her fingers only close into an empty fist.

Dina’s face comes into view, and her eyes look like two tiny little night skies. Ellie can feel the warm night air hit her teeth as she smiles.

“Hey,” she greets, and Dina crouches down in front of her.

“Hey,” Dina says, “what are you guys up to?”

Ellie shrugs, looking over at Cat. There’s a lit cigarette dangling from Cat’s lips, and she grins in that feral way she has.

“Just hanging out,” Cat says, and she blows smoke out her mouth in Dina’s direction. Ellie counts the freckles on Dina’s face as she scrunches up her nose at the smell.

“You look weird,” Dina says, lifting a hand to Ellie’s cheek. Her touch feels like fire.

Ellie blinks. “I feel fine.” Her tongue feels like a foreign object in her mouth, and Ellie hears a giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Dina asks, and Ellie realises it was her own mouth the giggle tumbled out of.

“Ellie,” Cat calls to her and Ellie watches the world turn until Cat appears in front of her, “come here. There’s a fuckin’ like, whale in the sky.” Ellie crawls to lie beside Cat, the ground coming up to hold her. She only sees stars, stars swirling around on the dark palate of the sky, leaving trails of light behind them as they roam.

“Are you guys high?”

Dina’s voice drifts and Ellie can see it, the colour of a warm campfire.

“Could be,” Cat says, and her voice is green like a pine tree.

“Ellie, come on,” and Dina’s hand pulls Ellie up until she’s sitting, “I’ll get you home.”

“Sure,” Ellie says, her body aching to follow Dina.

Cat’s hand holds her other wrist, dull and cold. “Dude, chill out. We’re having a good time.”

“I don’t give too many shits about that,” Dina says, and her hand is burning into Ellie’s skin.

Ellie yanks her arm from Dina’s hand, rubbing at where her fingers were. The skin doesn’t look burnt, but it feels raw. She looks up at Dina, who is now standing. There’s something wrong in her expression, something Ellie can’t parse out before it’s gone.

“Fine,” Dina says, “I’ll leave you guys to it.”

“You’re leaving?” Ellie asks.

Dina nods. “Have fun, Ellie.” She looks past Ellie at where Cat is flicking her lighter on and off, running her hand through the flame. Then she’s gone, and Ellie sinks into the earth.

* * *

Ellie is sitting on her cot playing _Asteroids_ on her Atari when Dina comes in and sits down heavy beside her.

“You locked the door when you came in?” Ellie asks, her eyes locked onto the screen.

“Obviously,” Dina answers. She doesn’t waste any time lighting a joint, and she holds it out for Ellie. Ellie leans over, still focused on her game, and Dina holds it to her lips as she takes a hit.

“Fuck, that’s strong,” Ellie says as the smoke flies from her mouth.

“Jesse still won’t fucking talk to me,” Dina says, “he’s just avoiding me.”

Ellie grits her teeth. “You broke up with him, he needs some time.”

“I don’t have time,” Dina argues, “the longer I wait to tell him about the…about _it_ , the worse that conversation is going to go.”

“Then just tell him,” Ellie says.

“You’re useless when you’re playing video games,” Dina says, and Ellie shrugs.

“I’m focused,” she mumbles. It’s a half-truth, but she doesn’t want to add the rest of the truth, which is that talking with Dina about Jesse makes her feel like someone is stabbing her over and over again in the chest with an icepick.

It’s a specific image, but it’s accurate.

Dina huffs and gets up, walking to Ellie’s tape deck and digging through her music.

“Oh my god,” Dina says, and Ellie looks up briefly to see what she’s holding.

“Oh, fuck,” Ellie says, and she drops her controller. “Dina, no. Put it back.”

“ _Ellie’s Summer Jams Mixtape 1980_ ,” Dina reads, and the delighted grin that spreads across her face makes Ellie flop back onto the cot, game forgotten in her embarrassment.

“Does it matter if I ask you to kill me instead of play that tape?” Ellie pleads. The clicking of the tape in the deck is the answer she gets. Dina is waiting with her hands pressed together, the seam of them against her lips, like a prayer.

The first song comes on and Ellie shuts her eyes, her cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“ _Supertramp_?” Dina throws her head back in laughter. “Oh my god, Ellie.” She sits down beside Ellie again, the joint still lit and dangling from her fingers. Ellie snatches it and takes a deep hit, wishing that she could just turn into a cloud of smoke and disappear.

“I hate you,” Ellie says, “like, truly.”

Dina just laughs again, and Ellie wishes it didn’t make her heart feel so light. “I really thought this would be a super angry, or super psychedelic mix.” The next song comes on after a bit of an awkward pause, and Ellie cringes at her shitty mixtape-skills.

The opening notes send a shot of fear through Ellie. She had forgotten about her inclusion of this song. It’s an old one, lifted from one of Joel’s records.

Dina’s arm is warm where it presses against Ellie’s, and Ellie hears her start to hum along with Patsy Cline. Ellie can feel her heartbeat in her throat, and she prays to whoever’s listening that Dina won’t figure out why this song is on the tape.

“This is a change,” Dina says, “I didn’t know you were so old-school.”

“It’s just a nice song,” Ellie mumbles.

“I didn’t know you were a little bit country,” Dina says, and Ellie looks over at her. Her teeth are exposed in a teasing grin, and Ellie forces her eyes up to meet Dina’s. Only trouble can come from staring at her lips.

“I’m actually _super_ rock and roll,” Ellie answers. Dina snorts and turns on her side, draping an arm over Ellie’s abdomen.

“Okay,” Dina says, “I have a question for you.”

“Sure,” Ellie says.

“How did you know,” Dina says, and Ellie frowns, not sure what Dina means, “that you weren’t…that you _were_ …”

“A big fuckin’ homosexual?” Ellie fills in, realizing what it is Dina’s trying to express.

“Sure,” Dina says, rolling her eyes, “that’s one way to put it.”

Ellie sighs and shrugs. “I don’t know. I just think girls are neat.”

“That is the worst answer,” Dina says, pinching the skin of Ellie’s arm.

“Aren’t you, like, taking a class on this shit?” Ellie asks, folding her arms up behind her head.

“It’s not about _that_ ,” Dina says with a small laugh. “It’s about women and feminism. Women’s liberation. Equality.”

“Right,” Ellie says, “so everyone in that class is definitely _not_ straight.”

“I guess not,” Dina says. She sighs and turns back onto her back. Ellie’s eyes trace the line of her profile for a second, looking away before she’s caught.

The music changes again, Fleetwood Mac this time. Dina doesn’t make any snarky comments, just closes her eyes and listens to the music. Ellie takes the chance to look at her again, following the arch of her nose, the gentle lines of her lips.

Her really soft lips.

Ellie looks at the ceiling and digs her nails into the skin of her arm.

“I’m going to go get some water,” Ellie says. Sitting up, she climbs over Dina. There’s a second where Dina’s eyes open, Ellie hovering over her, and Ellie feels a tug in her gut, and she swears she can see Dina’s pupils dilate.

She doesn’t linger there, no matter how much she wants to. Ellie has feet on the ground and is leaving Dina behind on her cot before she can start overthinking.

The light above the bathroom mirror is harsh, and Ellie runs the tap, splashing some water on her face. Leaning down, she takes a few sips from the still-running tap. Wiping her mouth on her shoulder, Ellie looks at herself in the mirror.

Her face is thinner than she remembers. The dark circles under her eyes make her look gaunt in this light. Ellie frowns and her fingers brush her cheekbones, a part of her face that she had never thought of as prominent in any way. They’re visible, and her cheeks have thinned out.

“You look like shit,” she mumbles to her reflection. She turns the light off and goes back to her room.

Dina is sitting up on the cot, reading a piece of paper in her hands. Ellie’s brow furrows, and as she draws nearer, her heart goes cold.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ellie says, lunging forward and snatching the paper from Dina’s hands.

“Fuck, Ellie,” Dina says, lifting her finger to her mouth and sucking on it for a second, “paper cut.”

“Why the fuck were you reading this?” Ellie says, brandishing the letter like a weapon.

Dina looks up at her, bleeding finger held out in front of her. “It was under your pillow, I was getting comfortable.”

“So, what, you thought you could read my private shit?” Ellie’s chest feels full of fire, dangerous and hot and violent. She’s never felt this directed at Dina before, and that thought only stokes the flames more.

“I didn’t know what it was until I read it,” Dina says, “I’m really sorry, okay?”

Ellie scoffs. “Sure. Because when you find something hidden behind a pillow, it’s safe to assume it’s not private.”

“Will you calm down?” Dina says. “Look, I’m sorry, but maybe if it’s _that_ private to you, you should have actually put it away somewhere.” Dina stands and brushes by her.

“Where are you going?” Ellie asks, her heart clawing at her chest.

“To get some fucking toilet paper or something,” Dina snaps back, “I don’t want to bleed all over your sheets.”

“Oh,” Ellie mumbles, chastised. Dina leaves the room, and Ellie looks down at the crumpled paper in her hands. The now-familiar hand-writing stares back at her. She huffs and folds it up, tucking it into the breast pocket of her flannel shirt. It burns a hole in her chest.

Dina comes back in, her finger wrapped in toilet paper. She closes the door and leans back against it, her eyes holding a challenge. Ellie’s anger is a smolder now, but still hot enough to fuel her stubborn heart.

“I’m sorry,” Dina repeats, and Ellie nods.

“I know,” she answers. Her jaw is still set, teeth clamped together.

“Do you want me to ask you about it?” Dina says, and Ellie shrugs. Dina sighs and pushes off the door, coming to stand in front of her. Ellie sets her gaze just over the top of Dina’s head. “We don’t have to talk, Ellie. But I’m here if you want to.”

Ellie’s chest tightens with her throat, and everything feels on the tip of her tongue. She wants to say it all, to tell the story from the beginning of what she can remember. How she has a memory of her mother that feels more like a memory of a memory, that Joel had been lying to her for nearly twenty years, that she’s been living this life of half-truths and anger for so long it feels like everything she can remember.

Instead she just looks at Dina, and there’s this sudden impulse to say “fuck it” and push her up against the door, press their bodies together and paint Dina’s skin with her lips. Her hands twitch, and Dina’s eyes narrow just slightly, like she’s trying to read what’s going on behind Ellie’s eyes.

“I don’t know,” is all Ellie says, and her body screams at her to fucking _do_ something, her brain frozen.

“Okay,” Dina says.

Ellie feels stuck as she watches Dina’s tongue dart out and moisten her lips. Her palms feel clammy, and she clenches her fists shut.

She remembers something Joel had taught her, back when she was fourteen or so, about creature responses to fear.

Fight, flight, or freeze.

She’s definitely the latter.

Dina’s eyes are roaming Ellie’s face, and Ellie feels restless under her gaze, unable to move.

Like a fucking deer in headlights.

“Can I ask you something?” Dina’s voice is soft and drifts slowly to Ellie’s ears.

“Haven’t you asked me enough questions tonight?” Ellie mumbles

“One more,” Dina says, and Ellie relents with a nod. “Does this,” she taps the paper that sticks up from Ellie’s pocket, “have something to do with why you’re not speaking to Joel?”

“Dina,” Ellie says, the warning in her voice weak, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” Dina says, her hand resting on Ellie’s shoulder, “but it might help.”

“Help with what?” Ellie asks, her voice caught somewhere in her throat at the way Dina’s fingers tighten gently on the curve of her shoulder.

“All of this,” Dina mumbles. Ellie lets out a short breath, something akin to a laugh.

“I don’t think talking about it is going to help me,” she says, and it sure sounds sad out loud.

“It helped me,” Dina says, her fingers sliding to the back of Ellie’s neck. “ _You_ helped me.”

Ellie shrugs, and the tips of Dina’s fingers tickle at her hairline. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Maybe it felt like that to you,” Dina says, and Ellie doesn’t miss the hurt in her voice, “but to me, it was everything.”

Ellie hesitates. There’s too much she could say, and she feels utterly incapable of saying anything at all.

“I don’t know what I would have done,” Dina continues, and Ellie watches her throat bob as she swallows, “without you here. With me.”

It feels deep and heavy, and it sits on Ellie’s chest like a thousand pounds. She takes a steadying breath, shaky and shallow.

“What are friends for?” She says.

“Sure,” Dina says, and then she’s stepping back. Ellie feels her head clear from a cloud she didn’t know was there.

Ellie twists her fingers together. It feels like she said something wrong. Her feet unstick from the floor, and she walks over to the television. Dina sits on the cot, and Ellie holds up a VHS.

“Movie?”

Dina nods, and Ellie pops it in, turning off the music that they had both been ignoring.

The movie is something they’ve seen before, and Dina drifts off halfway through, her head falling to Ellie’s shoulder. Carefully, Ellie slides down the wall they’re leaning on and adjusts so they’re lying down. Dina stirs, and she turns away from Ellie, her back warm where it touches Ellie’s side. As Ellie closes her eyes, the light from the TV dancing across her eyelids, a hand grabs her arm and pulls her close. Ellie turns and her body wraps around Dina’s.

It feels like home.

***

_Spring 1981_

Ellie’s heart is racing. She runs a hand along the bottom of her nose, her knee bouncing. Cat straightens up and sniffs hard, turning to Ellie with a toothy grin.

“What time is it?” Ellie asks, and Cat shrugs.

“Who fucking cares?” Cat asks, and Ellie rolls her eyes. Standing up, Ellie pulls back the dark curtains over Cat’s window and is immediately assaulted by sunlight.

“It’s the fucking morning?” Ellie flings to curtain open wider, the sunlight streaming in and lighting up Cat’s room. The mirror on Cat’s bed catches the light and sends it bouncing to the ceiling.

“Well that’s a long night,” Cat says, laughing. Ellie curses and grabs her shoes from the foot of Cat’s bed, hopping around as she pulls them on.

“I have to go,” Ellie says, “how the fuck were we doing this all night?”

“It’s magic,” Cat snarks.

“Fuck,” Ellie mumbles, and she pulls her jacket on.

“Where are you going?” Cat asks, and Ellie’s eye catches the way her shirt rides up as she stretches, the ink on her ribs peeking out from the rising hem.

“Fucking home,” Ellie answers. “Joel is going to be so _pissed_.”

“So?” Cat says. She reaches forward and grabs Ellie’s wrists where they stick out from the ends of her sleeves. “Stay here. He’ll be pissed no matter when you get home.”

Ellie sighs. It’s tempting, it’s always tempting to stay with Cat. How would it not be, with the seemingly endless supply and the promise of sex always on the table.

 _What else are girlfriends for?_ Is what Cat always says.

“I really need to go,” Ellie insists, “but I’ll make it up to you. Deal?”

Cat huffs and flops back onto her bed. “Fine.”

Ellie gives her a small smile, and then she rushing out of Cat’s room and through her house. The fresh morning air hits her like a truck, the sun too bright after spending all night holed up in Cat’s dingy bedroom. Her feet carry her though Jackson, the route between Cat’s place and her house is almost thoughtless by now.

When she gets home, Ellie can feel her high wearing off, and she sends up a wish to the universe that Joel is still asleep and she can just sneak up to her room and pass out.

Of course, when has the universe ever been on her side?

Joel is sitting in the living with his coffee, watching her as she creeps in the front door.

“Mornin’,” he says.

Ellie tries to offer him a smile. “Morning.”

“You’re home…early,” Joel says, and he’s impossible to read behind the mug he holds like a shield. "You stayed over at your friend's place? What's her name..."

“Cat, and I'm sorry,” Ellie says, shoving her shaky hands into her pockets, “I just passed out.”

Joel sighs and stands up. He walks over to her, and his eyes scan her like a goddamn x-ray. Ellie stands her ground, but can’t hold his gaze.

“You don’t look like you got much sleep,” Joel says. Ellie shrugs. “And your nose is bleeding.”

“What?” Ellie lifts a hand to her nose and it comes away with a spot of red. “Fuck, that’s gross.” She walks to the kitchen and grabs a few tissues, folding them up and pressing them to her nostrils. Joel follows her, and he leans forward onto the kitchen island, fingers tapping the side of his mug.

“Is there anything you want to tell me, Ellie?” Joel says, and he’s using that impossibly soft voice, that annoying voice that always used to make Ellie cave.

“Not that I can think of,” Ellie answers, her voice nasally. She can taste blood in the back of her mouth.

“Alright,” Joel says, and it’s painfully clear that he’s not buying anything Ellie tries to sell him.

“I’m gonna go upstairs, clean up,” Ellie says, and she feels his eyes on her back the whole way to the staircase.

When she reaches the bathroom, she stands over the sink and lets her nose drip blood into the porcelain bowl. It stands out harsh against the white, and Ellie runs the tap, trying to wash it away. In the mirror, her reflection has deep purple bags under its eyes, streaks of blood running from the bottoms of her nostrils. Ellie grabs some toilet paper and rolls it up, shoving it up her nose.

She feels very tired all of a sudden, and she stumbles her way to her bedroom, collapsing onto her bed and shutting her eyes against the daylight. Her head spins, but soon enough exhaustion takes over and sleep claims her.

* * *

Ellie watches as Jesse throws another rock at the river’s surface. Her fingers tighten around the neck of the bottle she’s holding.

She’d found him out here after nearly an hour of driving around town and searching for him. Dina had called and told her, through a nearly-incomprehensible amount of tears, that she had finally cornered Jesse long enough to talk about the abortion. Ellie had tried to insist that she come and make sure Dina was okay, but Dina had insisted right back that Ellie go and make sure Jesse was okay.

And so ensued the great Jesse hunt of 1984.

When she’d found him, he had been sitting still as stone at the edge of the river, his knees pulled to his chest. There’s a thin layer of ice on the water’s surface, not thick enough to walk out onto. Ellie had stood beside him, not saying anything. Jesse had stood up then, his eyes rimmed red and tears still streaking down his cheeks. Ellie grabbed a rock from beneath the snow and handed it to him, and she watched as he hurled it at the sheet of ice, shattering the undisturbed surface.

That had been nearly half an hour ago. Ellie’s fingers are freezing now, the beer she sips keeping her insides warm. Jesse doesn’t seem any closer to being ready to talk or go somewhere that won’t freeze their asses off.

Another rock, this one hitting a patch of open water. Ellie watches the small splash rise up, and she takes a sip of beer. The glass is freezing against her lips, but the liquid is still somewhat warm when it runs down her throat.

Finally, Jesse turns and walks over to where Ellie is sitting on the hood of her car. Silently, she hands him a bottle. He pops the lid off and takes a long drink.

“Better?” Ellie asks.

Jesse stares into the distance. “No.”

“Yeah,” Ellie says, and she picks at the label on her bottle.

“Did you know?” Jesse asks, and Ellie nods. It’s the answer he was expecting, Ellie can tell that from the resigned way he sort of shake-nods his head.

“You want to get some food?” Ellie tries, and Jesse shrugs. His lips are somewhere near turning blue, so Ellie rephrases. “I’m freezing, dude. We should go inside.”

Jesse agrees silently, simply standing up and getting in the passenger side of Ellie’s car. Ellie drains her beer and tosses the bottle aside, opening the driver’s side door and sliding in. She turns the key and waits for the engine to start. It takes a few tries, the winter air too cold. Finally, it sputters to life and she heads down the dirt road.

Jesse sits in silence beside her the whole way, staring out the window. Ellie doesn’t put the radio on, just lets the quiet wash over them. She drives around town until she finally pulls up to the one fast food place that’s open past ten o’clock.

With a pike of fries in front of them, they sit at the composite table and pick away at the food.

“Fucking pregnant,” Jesse mumbles. Ellie shoves a fry into her mouth. “And she didn’t even tell me.” He rips a fry in half. “Did she tell you?”

“No,” Ellie says, “not until after.”

“Fuck,” Jesse says, and he runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

Ellie holds her tongue, stuffing a handful of deep-fried potatoes into her mouth.

“I would have fucking _helped_ ,” Jesse says.

 _That’s the problem_ , Ellie thinks.

“It’s Dina,” she says, “you think she’d want help?”

Jesse laughs, and it sounds almost cruel. “Not from me.”

Ellie can’t think of anything to say. He’s not wrong, he’s actually pretty spot-on, and there’s no way she can lie to him. He’d know it’s a lie, and she would feel like a real dick. She picks at the fries in front of her.

“She killed our baby.”

That makes Ellie lift her head and look at Jesse. He’s staring past her shoulder, eyes focused on nothing. Tears are brimming his eyes, but there’s something sharp residing in them.

“She didn’t kill anything,” Ellie says.

“Well, she didn’t let it live.” Jesse sighs and grips his head in his hands. “Doesn’t she know we could have been fucking _happy_?”

Ellie can’t hold her tongue any longer. “ _You_ would have been happy,” she says, and he looks at her with his dark, sad eyes, “she would have been miserable.”

“I could have made her happy,” is all he replies.

Ellie just eats another fry, and they sit together under the bright fluorescent lights.

***

_Autumn 1981_

Ellie wakes up to a pounding headache. It reverberates through her sinuses, behind her eyes, and even her jaw. She tries to sit up, but her body resists. Her alarm is going off, and she lifts a hand to smack down on top of it.

“Fuck,” she whispers, and the sharp inhale she takes through her nose sends a shot of pain right to her brain.

Outside, a horn honks.

“Ellie, let’s go!”

It’s Dina and Jesse, waiting for her to get up and get in the car so they can go on that dumbass hike they wanted to do.

“Fuck.”

Ellie forces herself to sit up, gritting her teeth against the pain. There’s no way she can make it downstairs like this, let alone through a whole hike. She gets her legs over the side of her bed, and she pulls open the top drawer of her bedside table. There’s a small plastic baggie tucked under a copy of _The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_ , and she pulls it out. Ellie dumps some of the contents on the top of the nightstand and fishes a bill from the pocket of the jeans she fell asleep in.

It hits her nose with a sting, but almost immediately her headache subsides and she feels a bit of energy returning. She repeats the process two more times, then tucks the bag into her pocket with the bill, and she heads downstairs.

Joel must already be at work, and Ellie’s glad the universe at least granted her that small mercy.

She puts her Ray-bans on, but the sun still feels too bright.

Dina is hanging out the passenger window of Jesse’s car, giving Ellie a thousand-watt smile.

“Look who decided to show up,” Jesse says as Ellie gets in the backseat.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ellie says, waving him off. She sniffs and wipes her nose on her sleeve.

“Wearing jeans to go hiking,” Dina says, turning around in the front seat to look Ellie up and down, “bold move.”

“I’m a very bold person,” Ellie says. The plastic baggie feels like it’s burning a hole in her pocket.

The drive out to the trailhead is about half an hour. Ellie spends most of it just listening to Dina and Jesse banter back and forth, her head still too cloudy to feel like she’s ready to partake in coherent conversation. When they arrive at the trailhead, Ellie lingers in the car just long enough to use her key to scoop out a small bump and inhale it before either Jesse or Dina notice.

Her friends are much more seasoned hikers; nature has never held a very dear place in Ellie’s heart. She’d much rather be inside watching TV, reading, or playing a video game, than walking around getting eaten alive by bugs in the middle of fucking nowhere. Dina and Jesse are always at least five yards ahead of her, and Ellie is able to keep sneaking bumps and keep herself going.

Eventually, it all kicks in enough to have her catching up to them. It’s as they near the overlook that Ellie feels a wet warmth in her nose.

“Fuck,” she hisses, pressing the back of her hand to her nostrils. “Hey, do either of you guys have a tissue?”

Dina turns around and her eyes widen at the bright red that is slowly dripping from Ellie’s nose.

“Are you okay?” She asks, swinging her backpack around and unzipping a small side pocket.

“Yeah,” Ellie says, “just dry, y’know?’ Dina hands her a tissue, and Ellie holds it up to her nose. “We can keep going, it’s no big deal.”

Dina and Jesse both give her skeptical looks, but they don’t argue. The three of them continue on their hike, heading up the final slope to the overlook. Ellie’s heart is racing, her breath short. Jesse falls back to walk beside her.

“You alright?” He asks, and Ellie nods.

“I’m fine.”

Jesse tucks his thumbs under the straps of his backpack. “Out with Cat last night?”

“Uh, yeah,” Ellie says, pulling the tissue away to check if the bleed is still active, “why?”

“Look,” Jesse steps in front of her and Ellie barely has time to stop before she runs into him, “I’m not an idiot. You’ve been high this whole time. You were high when we got breakfast the other day, and then last week when we all went to the bar on campus.”

“So?” Ellie can feel the plastic baggie in her pocket like it’s a hot coal.

“So,” Jesse shakes his head and looks up at the sky, “so I’m fucking worried about you. I know Cat and her wastoid friends make it seem all normal and shit, but it’s not a goddamn joke.”

“I’m fine,” Ellie says, lifting her fingers and alternating them tapping the tip of her nose, “see?”

Jesse scoffs, “Sure, Ellie. I’m sure you’re fine.”

He turns and takes off, catching up to Dina and stepping through the brush to the overlook. Ellie hangs back and kicks at a rock, the rubber toe of her shoe bouncing off of it. She pulls out the baggie and scoops her key into it, sniffing sharply and shaking her head.

Jesse doesn’t know shit. She stuffs the baggie back in her pocket and pushes through the foliage, the unfiltered sunlight cutting into her vision like a knife.

* * *

Elli sits in her car, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turn white. The sky outside is grey, overcast with the promise of a late-winter snowfall. The fleece pullover she has on is keeping the cold out decently enough, but her toes are ice in her canvas sneakers.

The street is unfamiliar around her, and she bounces her knee as she stares at the unfamiliar door. Every inch of her wants to start her engines and run, hit the road home and never look back.

Instead, she cuts the engine and opens her door, climbing out of the car.

The house in front of her is a ranch-style bungalow, the roof still covered with a layer of ice and snow. The garage protrudes into the sloping driveway, a beat-up Volvo sitting in front of the closed garage door. Ellie’s feet crack a thin sheet of ice as she walks slowly up the small hill, the large lawn to her right still buried beneath the winter’s deposits.

The front door is painted red, a small lion’s head brass knocker in the centre. Ellie raises a hand and pauses. Her stomach in her throat, and she doesn’t think she’s ever felt this nervous before. Her hand shakes as she grabs the brass ring, the metal cold on her skin, and she knocks once, twice, three times.

There’s the sound of movement inside, and Ellie tucks her hands into her pockets, hunching her shoulders slightly.

The door opens and Ellie looks into her own eyes.

***

_Thanksgiving 1981_

Ellie hasn’t slept in three days.

Her hands haven’t stopped shaking for five.

The world is moving slowly around her. Or maybe she’s moving too fast.

She’s sitting at the dining table with Joel, Dina and Jesse, Maria, Tommy, and their two kids. Ellie isn’t great with kids at the best of times, and right now the noise they’re making is irritating the shit out of her.

An ache is persistent in her bones, or maybe her muscles. Ellie’s knee shakes under the table, her fingers tapping against the silver fork in her hand.

The meal in front of her looks delicious, but every bite tastes like napkins, and she doesn’t feel the least bit hungry.

Dina is chatting with Tommy about something to do with engines, the two of them bonding over their shared interest in mechanics and electronics. Maria is busy trying to get her two-year-old daughter to eat her carrots. Joel is talking to Jesse about running your own business, and Ellie stares at her plate.

Suddenly, she’s standing. Everyone’s eyes turn to her.

“Uh,” Ellie’s hand repeatedly taps against her thigh, “I need some air.”

Out on the back porch, Ellie leans over the railing and presses a hand to her chest. Her heart is running a marathon behind her ribs, and she tries to take deep breaths.

A hand presses to her back. “Ellie?”

It’s Joel. She pulls back from his touch, the warmth of his hand painful through her shirt.

“Are you okay, kiddo?”

She turns and looks at him, and the concerned pull of his brow, and the way he searches her for any sign of injury.

“I don’t know,” she says, and is she shouting? “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Joel says, and has he always talked this slowly?

There’s a violent kick of nausea, and Ellie bends over, heaving.

“Is she okay?”

It’s Dina, and Ellie feels bile fall from her lips.

“Tell Tommy I’m taking her to the hospital,” Joel instructs.

“No!” Ellie stumbles back, spit still hanging from her bottom lip. “No hospital. They’ll fuckin’ arrest me.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Joel asks, and just past him Ellie can see Dina’s eyes fill with realization.

“Ellie,” Dina says, and it’s too soft and caring, “you have to go to the hospital.”

Ellie shakes her head, but then she’s bent over again, her stomach heaving into her chest.

“Will one of you tell me what the hell is goin’ on?” Joel’s voice is raised, and Ellie can’t answer.

“It’s coke,” Dina says, “I think.”

“Cocaine?” Joel says, and the dumbfounded look on his face would be funny in any other circumstance.

“Yeah,” Dina folds her arms around herself, “I’m sorry, Joel. I didn’t know…I didn’t think it was this bad.”

“Shit,” Joel says, and Ellie straightens up. Joel catches her as she sways. “Okay, no arguing with me. Dina, go tell Tommy we’re leaving.”

“I want to come with you,” Dina says, but Ellie shakes her head.

“I don’t have time to argue,” Joel says. He lifts Ellie like she’s a child again, and Ellie only wonders for a second how much weight she’s lost that he can do this again.

In the back of Joel’s truck, she lies on the bench seat and stares at the ceiling. Every bump in the road feels like a fist in her back.

Joel carries her into the emergency room, and then she’s on a bed. There are tubes being attached to her arm, and then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy heavy heavy. 
> 
> Your comments and support are a gift. Thank you so much for all of it! 
> 
> If you or anyone you know is struggling with substance abuse, please look into the different ways your country/state/province/city/whatever has set up systems to help people, and take advantage of them. 
> 
> Take care, friends, and stay safe out there.


	11. Ellie / this heart of mine has been hurt before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie sees three women.
> 
> Chapter title from "Waiting For A Girl Like You" by Foreigner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Drug use is depicted in this chapter. Section under the italics, the first few paragraphs.

Ellie’s toes dig into the burnt orange shag carpet. Her hands are wrapped around a delicate teacup with a small floral pattern on the side. The clock on the wall ticks loudly in the silence.

Sitting on the armchair across the room from her, Anna Williams is mirroring her position.

She had answered the door, her eyes widening at the sight of Ellie standing in front of her. Ellie had first noticed their eyes, the same green, the same shape. Then the smattering of freckles across their faces, the slope of their noses. Anna had invited Ellie inside, not needing to ask who she was.

Anna had offered tea. Ellie hadn’t been able to refuse. She sat on the brown couch, back rigid, and accepted the drink.

And now here they were. Quietly looking at each other.

“Thank you,” Ellie says, “for the tea.”

“Of course,” Anna speaks, and Ellie doesn’t hear anything familiar in the voice. “Are you hungry? I can see if my brother has anything to eat, I’m sure there’s something -,”

“I’m fine,” Ellie says, interrupting the woman’s rambling.

The clock ticks.

“I’m so glad you came,” Anna says. “I wasn’t sure…I hoped you would.”

“I wasn’t sure I would,” Ellie admits, and Anna flinches a little at her honesty.

“So,” Anna clears her throat, “do you have any questions for me?”

Ellie shrugs and looks down at her feet. “I don’t know.”

“If it’s alright,” Anna puts her cup down on the table beside her, “I have some questions for you.”

“Sure,” Ellie says, and she watches as Anna pulls a piece of paper from the pocket of her cardigan and unfolds it.

“I wrote them down so I wouldn’t forget,” Anna explains, “my memory isn’t always reliable.” She scratches at her eyebrow and Ellie waits. “You must be what, twenty-one?”

“Yeah,” Ellie says, “my birthday is in -,”

“June,” Anna fills in.

“Right,” Ellie says, “sorry I forgot you…whatever.” Her cheeks feel warm.

“Don’t be sorry,” Anna says, and that sounds familiar to Ellie’s ears. “Are you in college?”

“No,” Ellie shakes her head, “no, I work at an arcade in Jackson. I don’t think college has anything for me.”

“An arcade?” Anna looks confused. At Ellie’s own puzzled look, Anna smiles sadly. “I’ve been locked up for the better part of nineteen years, I think I missed a few things.”

“Oh,” Ellie nods and swallows down her embarrassment, “it’s just like, a place full of video games and stuff.”

“Of course,” Anna says, “my nephew has one of those…what’s it called, A-something?”

“Atari,” Ellie answers.

Anna smiles, and Ellie feels her own lips twitch up in response. “Atari. So, I guess you like video games?”

“Yeah,” Ellie smiles slightly.

They fall back into silence as they both takes sips of their tea. Ellie’s hands aren’t shaking so much anymore.

“So this is your brother’s place?” Ellie asks. _My uncle,_ she realises.

“Mhm,” Anna swallows her mouthful of tea, “I’m pretty lucky he agreed to let me stay. Most women in my position end up in shelters when they get out.”

Ellie doesn’t know what to say to that. She takes another sip.

“How’s Joel?” Anna asks. “God, it’s been…well, this long,” she gestures between the two of them, “since I’ve seen him.”

“He’s fine,” Ellie says quickly.

Anna smiles. “Good.” She puts her cup down again. “Ellie, I…I have so much to apologise for. I don’t know where to begin.” Ellie looks down at her feet. “You must be so angry.”

“I’m not,” Ellie says, picking at a thread that dangles from the knee of her pants, “I’m not angry about this.”

“Truly?” Anna asks, and Ellie looks up. The shine of tears in her eyes is unmistakable.

“Yeah,” Ellie shrugs, “I don’t know. I had…I had a really good life.” Ellie sets her jaw and scratches at the scar on her eyebrow. “I think, from what I know…you did the best thing you could.” _I thought you were dead for nearly twenty years, but what does that matter._

“Oh, Ellie,” Anna presses her hands to her mouth, “that means more to me than you’ll ever know.” She wipes away a stray tear from the corner of her eye, taking a shaky breath. “I still can’t believe you’re here, all grown up. Are you…do you have a boyfriend?”

Ellie chokes on the sip she takes. Coughing, she shakes her head. “No,” she wheezes, “no, definitely not.”

“Good,” Anna gives her a smile, like they’re sharing some sort of secret, “boys are nothing but trouble.”

***

Ellie leaves an hour later, the conversation having stagnated. Anna had pressed a piece of paper into Ellie’s hand with a phone number on it. Ellie had given her the arcade’s number in return, and she left with the ghost of a hand on her shoulder.

The drive back to Jackson is long and quiet, the music on the radio hardly registering to Ellie’s ears. She considers pulling into a roadside motel, but her foot stays on the gas, her eyes locked on the horizon.

It’s impossible to figure out how she’s feeling. A swirling mess of emotions is living in her chest, none of them easy to pull out and identify. Meeting her mother, it felt…anti-climactic. Ellie had thought she’d be angry, that she’d yell at her mother for abandoning her, for choosing her own vices over her child for so long that it sent her to her prison. But when she saw her, saw the woman’s small frame and the defeat that resided in her eyes…

Ellie figures that, if they’re anything alike, Anna Williams has been punishing herself for the past twenty years.

Over seven hours later, Ellie arrives back in Jackson. Her car idles in the parking lot of the now-quiet arcade, and then she’s backing out and making the familiar drive to the college campus.

She stands underneath Dina’s window, reaching up and tapping on the window pane. A light turns on inside the room, and then Dina appears at the window. Ellie waves, and Dina nods.

Ellie walks around the to the front door, and Dina is already there, her hair in a hurried ponytail and a throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders, bare feet on the linoleum floor.

“Hey,” Dina steps forward and pulls her into a hug.

“Hi,” Ellie says, her voice rough from hours of unuse. Dina’s skin is warm, and she smells like shampoo and soap. “Sorry, I just…I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Okay,” Dina says, her eyebrows knitted together in gentle concern, “come on. You’re shaking.”

Ellie looks at her hands and realises Dina is right. She follows her down the hallway to her room, the light from the lamp casting the small dormitory room in irregular shadow. Dina sits Ellie down on the bed, sitting down so close to her that their thighs press together. Ellie can feel Dina’s warmth through the cold denim of her jeans.

“Are you okay?” Dina asks, her hand on Ellie’s thigh.

“I went to see my mom,” Ellie answers. Dina doesn’t say anything, just lifts her other hand to rub Ellie’s back. Ellie turns her head, looking at her friend. The yellow light of the lamp highlights the side of Dina’s face, shadows obscuring the other half of it. Her profile is illuminated, and Ellie’s mouth feels dry. “She didn’t know what an arcade was.”

Dina’s thumb rubs against Ellie’s thigh. “How do you feel?”

Ellie stares into Dina’s eyes, and she thinks there are too many answers to that questions.

“I feel,” and Ellie looks away, staring at the macrame owl that hangs on the opposite wall, “I feel empty.”

“Empty?”

Ellie nods, pursing her lips. Her hands shake and she links her fingers together, squeezing them so tight that the circulation starts getting cut off. Looking at Dina, Ellie tries to convey what she can’t say. There’s a blackhole in her chest, and Ellie can feel it aching for something, anything.

“Oh,” Dina says, and her hand stills on Ellie’s back, “oh, _Ellie_.”

“Don’t,” Ellie says, “don’t sound so pitiful.” It feels like a punch in the gut, to hear that tone from Dina.

“I’m sorry,” Dina says, and she shuffles even closer, wrapping her arm around Ellie’s shoulders, pressing her forehead to the side of Ellie’s head. Ellie can feel her breath where it tickles at her ear, and it sends a shiver down her spine.

“I can’t be…I need you,” Ellie says, and it feels like a bigger admission than what it is. Dina nods, and Ellie turns her head just slightly, so the edge of her forehead presses to Dina’s.

“Do you want to sleep?” Dina asks, and Ellie nods. Dina leans back and Ellie nearly falls from how hard she leaning on the other girl. “Arms up.” Ellie complies, letting Dina pull her sweater up over her head. Her skin erupts into goosebumps, and Ellie doesn’t waste time kicking off her shoes and getting under the covers of Dina’s small bed. It’s way more comfortable than the cot she’s been sleeping on, Dina’s comforter pulled up to their chins. Dina opens her arms up, and Ellie turns into them, hiding her face away in Dina’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Ellie breathes. She feels lips press to the top of her head, and the countless hours of driving, the weight of every emotion she felt today, it crashes down on her and her body shakes with a deep sob. Dina’s arms tighten around her, and Ellie lets everything pour out of her.

***

_Summer 1981_

Ellie stares up at Cat’s ceiling as Cat dumps out a bit of coke onto her stomach. Ellie looks down her nose at the small, messy line, then at where Cat is rolling a bill.

“So this is sexy for you?” Ellie says, her fingers tapping incessantly on the bedspread.

“You’re sexy,” Cat says with a wink, and Ellie rolls her eyes, “so, yeah.”

“I still don’t get why I couldn’t keep my pants on,” Ellie complains for the fifth time, and Cat just pinches the skin of her hip. “Ow!”

“Chill out,” Cat says, and her hair tickles Ellie’s abdomen where it hangs down. The bill scratches her skin as Cat runs it along the line, inhaling sharply through her nose. When she sits up, Ellie raises her eyebrows in question.

“Sexy?”

Cat shrugs, tossing the bill aside and crawling up the bed. Their bare skin presses together when she climbs over top of Ellie, heat from between her legs settling near Ellie’s navel.

“You ready to fuck me, yet?” Cat asks. Ellie doesn’t respond, just slides her hand between Cat’s legs and presses inside of her, curling her fingers the way she knows Cat likes. Cat moans, and Ellie stabilizes her wrist as Cat moves. “Try harder,” Cat groans.

“Then get off of me,” Ellie shoots back. Cat rolls her eyes and pushes herself up, flopping down beside Ellie and spreading her legs. Ellie’s brain feels too full, but she turns on her side and props herself up on her elbow. Leaning down, Ellie captures Cat’s lips in a heated kiss, her tongue invading her mouth and tracing the top of her mouth. Her fingers slip back inside, and she finds a rhythm, the heel of her hand slamming against Cat.

“There you go,” Cat encourages, breathless and shaking with Ellie’s movements. Ellie kisses her again, effectively shutting her up.

She fucks her for what feels like forever, and eventually Cat grabs her wrist and pulls her hand away.

“Sorry,” Ellie says.

“It’s me,” Cat says, and Ellie turns onto her back. Cat sits up and grabs the baggie from the end of the bed, dipping her finger in it and holding it out to Ellie. Ellie bares her teeth, and Cat rubs the powder on her gums. “I’m too wired.” She rubs some on her own gums, closing up the baggie and tossing it onto the nightstand.

Ellie nods and pulls Cat down for another kiss. Their mouths taste like chemicals, and Ellie’s tongue feels a bit numb at the tip. Cat’s fingers find Ellie’s breasts, absent-mindedly touching her.

“Mouth,” Cat mumbles, and Ellie nods, adjusting her neck on the pillow. Cat straddles her face, lowering herself until Ellie’s tongue is on her, all of her senses engulfed. Cat tastes sharp, and she presses down too hard when Ellie’s tongue flattens out against her.

Ellie taps her thigh, and Cat sighs, lifting a leg and climbing off.

“I’m too high,” Ellie says, “I can’t manage all the breathing coordination.” Cat scoffs at her. She reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a cigarette from the carton there, lighting it and taking a long drag.

“You want one?”

“Sure,” Ellie takes the already lit stick and puts it between her lips. She coughs lightly on the first inhale, the smoke getting caught in her throat.

“Poser,” Cat teases with a grin. Ellie flips her off, taking another drag. “Hey, you wanna head to the river tomorrow? Alex got some fireworks from his cousin.”

“I’m hanging out with Dina,” Ellie replies.

“You hung out with her yesterday,” Cat complains, “and you missed out on a really fucking good night.”

“I _had_ a really fucking good night,” Ellie counters.

“Come on,” Cat leans over her, some ash from her cigarette falling onto Ellie’s chest, “come spend time with me. We can go skinny dipping or something, fuck in a bush. Whatever you want.”

“I want to hang out with Dina,” Ellie says, her voice carrying an edge now.

“Fine.” Cat stands up and grabs Ellie’s pants from the floor, tossing them onto her stomach, “then go be with Dina.”

“Jesus, can you chill out?” Ellie snaps.

“Well, clearly you’d rather hang out with Dina,” Cat says, finding Ellie’s shirt and throwing that at her too. It knocks the cigarette and Ellie’s shaky hand accidentally tips the lit end against her skin.

“Fuck, be fucking careful!” Ellie sits up and wipes at the spot. “What’s your damage tonight?”

“My girlfriend being totally in love with someone else,” Cat snipes back.

“I am not having this argument again,” Ellie says, jamming the cigarette into the nearby ashtray. She grabs her clothes and stands on the opposite side of the bed as Cat, pulling her pants on. “If you’re going to be crazy, I’m leaving.”

Cat looks wild, her eyes flashing dangerously. Ellie tugs her shirt on and grabs her shoes.

“Have fun rubbing it out to Dina,” Cat calls after her as Ellie slams the door shut.

“Fuck you!” Ellie yells back, and she shoulders her way out the front door.

* * *

The end of semester party is in full swing at one of the frat houses. Ellie stands in the corner, waiting for Dina to come back with their drinks, and she watches as a buff dude in a cropped jersey holds his buddy upside as he drinks from the keg.

House parties are terrible, but Dina had asked so nicely and Ellie still hasn’t figured out how to say no to her.

Like a ray of sunshine coming through dark clouds, Dina appears with two plastic cups in hand.

“For you,” she says as she hands one to Ellie. It smells like jack and coke, and Ellie takes a big sip.

“Jesus,” she hisses, “Dina, this is…really strong.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dina says, “I didn’t know you were a little bitch.”

Ellie rolls her eyes and takes another drink. “I’m not a little bitch.”

“Clearly,” Dina smirks over the rim of her cup. She leans up against the wall beside Ellie, and Ellie raises an eyebrow in question as Dina stares at her.

“Can I help you?” She teases.

“Maybe,” Dina says, giving Ellie a dramatic wink. Ellie looks away, hoping her flushed cheeks can be attributed to how hot it is in the house. “Come on, Astrid said she was starting up a game of quarters.” Dina’s hand wraps around Ellie’s wrist and she leads her through the crowd.

Pushing through a bead curtain, Dina pulls Ellie into a small room. There’s a smoky haze, weed and incense. Astrid and a few other people are sitting around a table, a glass in the middle of the table. Ellie sits next to Dina, cramped between her and a girl with extremely teased hair.

“Okay,” Astrid flips a coin the air as she speaks, “just get the quarter in the glass, give out a drink. If you miss, you drink.” She artfully bounces the quarter right into the glass and points at Dina. Dina grins and takes a drink.

The quarter is passed around, people fumbling and succeeding. Ellie gives out more drinks than she takes. Dina accepts a joint from a guy in a turtleneck, holding it out to Ellie with a coy smile. Ellie leans forward and takes a hit, her heart pounding when her lips accidentally bump Dina’s fingers where they hold the end of the blunt.

She tries not to stare as Dina takes a hit, but the way the smoke trails from her lips is completely captivating. The alcohol must be working its way through her system, the feeling of someone elbowing her to take her turn barely cutting her attention.

The quarter bounces off the outside of the glass.

Ellie goes to take a sip, but her cup is empty. “Oh. I’m out.”

“You’ll have to do something else,” Astrid says, and Ellie shrugs, not one to shy away from a challenge.

“Sure,” Ellie says, “I’ll take another hit or something.”

“Shotgun!” Some guy across the table calls out. Ellie frowns, not sure what that is. She nods anyways, and then Dina grabs her chin delicately with her fingers and turns her head towards her.

“Ready?” Dina asks.

“What?” Dina doesn’t answer, just takes a hit from the joint and leans forward.

Ellie’s brain short circuits as Dina’s lips press against hers, her jaw hanging loose in shock. Then Dina exhales the smoke from her lungs into Ellie’s mouth, and somehow Ellie gathers enough presence of mind to inhale.

Dina pulls back, her eyes dark and cheeks pink. Ellie holds the smoke for a second and then lets it out, coughing slightly. There’s a heavy heat in her stomach now, her heart straining against her ribs. Dina is staring at her, her lips still parted, a hint of smoke still falling from them.

Someone wolf-whistles and Ellie snaps her attention back to the table. She grabs the quarter and hands it to Dina, avoiding her eyes. Dina bounces the quarter in and tells someone to drink.

The room feels too small now, Dina’s leg too hot where it presses against Ellie’s.

“I need some air,” Ellie mumbles to Dina. She pushes herself to her feet and heads back through the crowd. Weaving around bodies, Ellie makes it to the front door and steps outside. The sounds of the party are muffled as the door closes, and Ellie walks across the lawn to sit under a tall oak tree.

She can still feel the ghostly imprint of Dina’s lips on hers, a trace of her lip gloss on Ellie’s bottom lip.

“Fuck,” Ellie exhales, leaning her head back against the trunk of the tree. Through the bare branches, the night sky stares down at her. The stars are barely visible through the light from the streetlamps, and Ellie imagines what it must be like to go all the way up to the sky and be alone. No fucking confusing girls, no disappointing father figures, no people to cause unnecessary drama.

A few people stumble out of the house, and Ellie crosses her fingers, hoping they’ll stay as far away from her as possible. One figure breaks from the crowd and Ellie’s heart jumps to her throat when she recognizes it as Dina. She watches as Dina crosses the lawn towards her, sitting down next to her.

“Hey,” Dina says, and Ellie brings her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

“Hey.”

Ellie can feel Dina’s eyes on her, and she stares resolutely forward.

“I’m sorry,” Dina says.

“Why?” Ellie shrugs and shakes her head slightly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I shouldn’t have just assumed,” Dina says, pausing to take a deep breath, “that you would want me to…I guess I just should have told you what was happening.”

Ellie looks at Dina then, and sees the way her teeth worry her bottom lip. “Really, don’t worry about it, Dina. I’m just glad it wasn’t someone else.”

“Yeah,” Dina nods tilts her head down, looking at her shoes. After a beat, she looks up at Ellie through her eyelashes. “Me too.”

Ellie swallows, nervous. Her palms are sweating, and she tries to subtly wipe them on the grass.

“Um,” Ellie tries to find something to say, something to cut the tension, “do you want to go back inside?”

“No,” Dina shakes her head. Ellie feels trapped by Dina’s eyes.

“Okay,” Ellie says. Dina sighs and turns, facing Ellie.

“Ellie,” she says.

Ellie looks at her. “Yeah?”

“I want,” Dina pauses and laughs softly, looking up to the sky before bringing her gaze back to Ellie. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

Ellie can feel her heartbeat kicking inside her chest. “Don’t be nervous.” She picks at the grass. “It’s just me.”

“I know,” Dina says, “that’s the thing.” Her hand reaches up and cups Ellie’s cheek, and Ellie holds her breath. Dina leans forward and their noses bump.

“Are you sure?” Ellie asks, and when Dina nods, Ellie is the one to close the gap.

It’s better than she remembers.

Dina’s lips are impossibly soft, slightly sticky with lip gloss and alcohol. Ellie’s hand lands on Dina’s knee. They kiss slow and careful, everything their last kiss wasn’t, lips sliding together in the most delicate way.

It feels like flying.

Ellie’s heart is still racing, and when Dina’s tongue brushes against her lips, she parts them and a miniscule whimper slips from her throat. Dina’s tongue is warm where it bumps Ellie’s, her fingers sliding into Ellie’s hair.

They break apart, and there’s one second where they look at each other, and before Ellie can start overthinking, she leans in again, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. She licks into Dina’s mouth, tasting the sugar and the alcohol from her drink, the ash from the joint.

Dina moans, and without breaking their kiss, she scoots forward and climbs onto Ellie’s lap, legs straddling her hips. Ellie has to crane her neck back, and the rough bark on the tree scratches at her scalp. Dina’s free hand presses against her shoulder, her body pressing against Ellie’s in all the right ways. Unthinkingly, Ellie’s hands fall to Dina’s hips, slipping down as the kiss turns more desperate. Dina gasps into Ellie’s mouth, and Ellie nips at her bottom lip.

“Ellie,” Dina whines, and Ellie moves her lips to Dina’s neck. She hunts for the right spot, the place that will make Dina tremble, and she finds it near her pulse, teeth scraping and her tongue darting out to soothe the sting. She sucks there until Dina’s pulling her hair, directing her back to her lips. Dina presses down heavy on Ellie’s lap, her hips grinding down, desperate for friction.

It feels like every single one of Ellie’s nerves is on fire.

Dina kisses her hot and open, nails digging into Ellie’s scalp. Ellie feels pangs of heat deep in her stomach, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

“Fuck,” Ellie breathes. Dina’s teeth tease her earlobe. A shiver runs down her spine.

Dina leans back, her gaze heavy where it scans Ellie’s face. She stands then, her chest heaving with each breath she takes. Ellie feels fear grip her.

“Dina?” Her voice sounds small.

“I’m going home,” Dina says, and Ellie feels her stomach drop. Her heart squeezes painfully, and she bites her lip against the swell of tears in her eyes.

Then, Dina holds out a hand.

Ellie looks up at her.

“You coming?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would have truly been impossible without the direct peer pressure from ehefic and Whiskeytango86. Go show them some love!
> 
> You guys are amazing. Every comment blows me away, and it makes me so happy to see you all enjoying this as much as I am - if not more! Thank you a million times over.


	12. Ellie / can't fight this feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up where we just left off.
> 
> Chapter title from "Can't Fight This Feeling" by REO Speedwagon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean like, the entire first three scenes are basically smut so...proceed with that in mind.

Dina’s door slams shut behind them. Ellie pushes Dina up against it, her lips attaching to the curve of Dina’s neck, her teeth scraping against soft skin. She smells like perfume and sweat, and it’s intoxicating. Ellie’s tongue soothes the skin she’s sucked to bruising, and Dina’s fingers in her hair tug until their lips meet again.

“Fuck,” Dina groans, and she licks into Ellie’s mouth, hot and open and somewhere beyond desperate. Hips buck, and Ellie feels her knees start to buckle as Dina’s hands push up the hem of her t-shirt. “Take this off.” Ellie pulls back and yanks her shirt over her head, cursing as it gets caught around her ears. Dina’s hands fumble with hers, and the shirt is tossed aside.

Dina’s hands are hot where they explore Ellie’s body, running over the edges of her ribs, the dip in her waist. Ellie shivers under her touch, a hand on the door and one on Dina’s hip keeping her standing.

“You can touch me,” Dina says in a breath, and Ellie’s brain short-circuits.

“Okay,” is all she can muster up, and then Dina’s lips are on her collarbone and Ellie thinks she’s found the stairway to heaven that Led Zeppelin was talking about. Ellie tugs at Dina’s shirt, the other girl breaking away for a second to rip it off.

It’s a lot of skin. Ellie’s seen Dina change before, she’s helped her with bra straps and sweaters that got bunched up. But it had always been with averted eyes, with the fear of being caught. Now…now she’s allowed to look, and it sends her.

Ellie stares at the smooth skin in front of her. There’s a light splash of freckles between breast and clavicle. The dip in Dina’s collarbone catches shadows, a small mole there that Ellie had never noticed before. Dina smirks, like she knows exactly what effect she’s having on Ellie.

“Shut up,” Ellie says, rolling her eyes.

“I didn’t say anything,” Dina answers, her hands sliding up over Ellie’s chest and hooking over her shoulders. Ellie shudders as her hands press on sensitive skin, and her eyes get caught in Dina’s. She steps closer, trapping Dina against the door, their bare skin touching. Ellie’s hands find Dina’s waist, feeling the soft skin and pulling her hips forward until they fit against Ellie’s.

“Are you sure?” Ellie asks. Dina nods, angling her head and taking Ellie’s lips in hers. This kiss is slower, and Ellie falls into the rhythm with her. Small whimpers fill the air, mingled in with their heavy breaths.

“Touch me,” Dina says again, and Ellie nods. Her hands shake as she runs them slowly up Dina’s body. Dina’s hands tangle in her hair, their foreheads pressed together and their eyes locking.

Ellie follows the curve of Dina’s waist, her fingers touching the band of lace that wraps around her chest. Her breath feels short in her chest, and Dina gently nuzzles the side of her nose against hers. She traces the lace around Dina’s back, finding the clasp and pinching it. It falls apart easily, and she hears Dina’s breath hitch. Straps are pushed down shoulders, slowly, reverently, and the bra falls to the floor.

From there, everything happens quickly. Ellie’s hands find purchase on Dina’s breasts, gentle but urgent. Dina moans, gasps, arches into Ellie’s touch. Ellie does the same when Dina’s hands find her chest again, exploratory touches trying to figure out what the other likes.

Ellie tugs at the waistband of Dina’s leggings, getting them stuck around her hips. “Fuck, these are tight,” Ellie mutters. Dina hums and takes matters into her own hands, wiggling the leggings down her hips. Ellie’s jaw hangs open as she looks down, unable to comprehend that she’s seeing Dina, without pants on. And she’s allowed to look. And touch.

“Bed,” Dina directs, and Ellie nods, stumbling back and standing by Dina’s small bed. Dina stands in front of her, reaching out and unbuttoning Ellie’s jeans. “Is this okay?”

“Fuck yeah,” Ellie breathes. Dina smiles and pushes the denim down Ellie’s legs, Ellie kicking the pants off as the drop near her ankles. She expects to feel self-conscious, but the way Dina stares and her and bites her lip, stepping forward and pressing the lengths of their bodies together, a sigh leaving her mouth in a high-pitched way.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been thinking about this,” Dina mumbles, kissing under Ellie’s jaw, teeth nipping.

“Not as long as I have,” Ellie counters, and she bends her neck to suck another mark into Dina’s neck. There’s some part of her that is telling her to leave every mark she can, to leave as much proof as she can to show that _this happened_.

“Prove it,” Dina challenges her, and Ellie smiles.

It’s a small bed, but Ellie climbs on top of Dina as they sink into it, their breasts brushing as she trails her mouth down Dina’s chest. She kisses a line from sternum to navel, her fingers gently rolling Dina’s nipples. Dina is moving beneath her, pressing up into her touch, her hips twitching against Ellie’s stomach as she moves down.

Fingers hook into the band of Dina’s underwear, and Ellie kisses her hip as she pulls the fabric away. Her hands push Dina’s legs apart, and she looks up over the plane of Dina’s body to meet her eyes.

“Ellie,” Dina says, and it’s more of a whine. Ellie nods, leaning in and pressing her tongue between Dina’s legs. She tastes bittersweet, and Ellie’s sense are overwhelmed with the taste, the smell, the feeling of finally being with Dina.

Dina’s hands grip the sheets, and Ellie watches her as she moves.

“Okay,” Dina says, “okay, okay. Fuck.” She chants to herself under her breath, and Ellie works faster, finding which spots make her louder, which spots bring her thighs clamping down on Ellie’s head.

Fingers grip Ellie’s hair, and Dina’s hips move against Ellie’s mouth, and then Ellie feels all of Dina’s muscles tense, and there’s a moment of pause and Ellie presses her tongue against Dina’s clit, finds the perfect angle, and then Dina falls apart into Ellie’s mouth.

It’s like fucking poetry in motion, or something equally as cheesy. Ellie keeps her eyes open, trying to take in every movement, trying to hear every sound. Dina shakes and moans so loudly that Ellie thinks everyone in the building must hear her.

“Fuck,” Dina breathes as Ellie pulls away, “come here.” She paws at Ellie’s shoulders, pulling her up into a heavy kiss. Ellie groans at the taste of Dina’s mouth mixing with the taste that’s still coating her tongue. Dina moans with her, the kiss slow and deep, tongues pressing as far into each other’s mouths as possible.

“You taste really good,” Ellie mumbles between kisses, “like, I could do that all night.” Dina smiles against her lips, teeth tugging at Ellie’s bottom lip.

“Oh, you’re doing that again tonight,” Dina says. Ellie smiles, and their kissing turns to teeth bumping as they both smile.

“I’m just,” Ellie bumps their noses together, and trails off with a laugh, shaking her head. Dina nods, a silent “me too”, and her hands slide down Ellie’s back.

“Is it okay,” Dina says, her hands gripping Ellie’s hips, “if I touch you now?”

Ellie thinks she spontaneously combusts right there. “Uh huh.” Dina smiles and then a hand is between Ellie’s legs, and she sees stars.

***

When early morning light filters in through the window, casting the room in an unearthly gray, Ellie and Dina are still trading lazy kisses. Ellie’s body feels exhausted, the room smells like sex and the joint Dina sparked up for them not so long ago in an attempt to help them fall asleep.

“We should really get some sleep,” Dina mumbles, her words getting lost as Ellie swallows them with a kiss.

“Sleep is for the weak,” Ellie replies. She tugs on Dina’s bottom lip with her teeth.

Dina whimpers, her body arching towards Ellie and their breasts pressing together. Her hand cups Ellie’s jaw and pulls her in, deepening the kiss. Their tongues slide together, languid and heavy.

“I could kiss you, like, all the time,” Dina says when they pull apart.

“Then you totally should,” Ellie says. Dina grins and nods, pressing closer to Ellie with her thigh between Ellie’s legs. Ellie shuffles around, lying on her back as Dina leans over her. The pressure between her legs is perfect, and Ellie hums her contentment when Dina kisses between her breasts, moving across her chest to leave a mark right beside Ellie’s nipple.

“I’m never getting anything done ever again,” Dina says as she rocks her thigh against Ellie, “like, never again.” Ellie smirks, but her sense of triumph is quickly cut by the pressure of Dina’s mouth on her chest, and she grinds down on Dina’s thigh.

“That’s fine,” Ellie says through a moan. They move against each other slowly, neither one thinking of reaching a goal, just simply enjoying how it feels to finally be touching each other, to let all their dreams and fantasies become reality.

“They should definitely be teaching more of this in women’s studies,” Dina says as she leaves kisses under Ellie’s jaw. Ellie’s hand is tangled in Dina’s hair, fallen loose from its ponytail ages ago. They fit their lips together, and even though it’s more than the hundredth time they’ve kissed tonight, Ellie feels it through her body like it’s the first.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Ellie knows they need to talk about this. The memory of Dina running out the first time they kissed is still clear as day.

Her hand flexes against Dina’s back, and she feels the ghost of a broken heart in her chest.

Dina’s fingers trace shapes into the skin of her belly.

Ellie closes her eyes and nuzzles into Dina’s neck.

“You tired?” Dina asks, and Ellie feels kisses on the side of her head.

“Mhm,” Ellie hums. Dina nods and pulls the blankets up to their chins, tucking herself into Ellie’s body. They fit perfectly, and Ellie presses her nose into Dina’s hair.

She lies awake as the sun rises, listening to Dina’s even breaths and sending up prayers to every being out there that, when the woman in her arms wakes up, she won’t run.

***

Ellie pushes her fingers deeper, curling them to try and find the right angle. Above her, Dina is sweating and moaning, her hands holding on to Ellie’s chest for balance. Ellie’s wrist protests the awkward angle, but there’s not a cramp in the world that could slow her down.

“Fuck,” Dina says, and Ellie holds her angle as Dina moves on her fingers, “yeah, that’s good, right there.” Ellie nods, and she watches Dina move above her.

It’s like a dream come true.

It’s maybe also a little risky, considering the arcade isn’t closed and there are only two doors separating them from the masses.

Dina had just said that makes it even hotter, and Ellie wasn’t about to argue with her on that front.

It’s been a week of this, of nonstop secret hook-ups and stolen kisses. Ellie feels like she’s addicted to Dina; her body craves her every time they’re not together. Every thought, every spare moment is dedicated to Dina. Dina’s eyes, her lips, her taste, the smell of her skin. The way she bites her lip when she gets close to an orgasm, the way she laughs when Ellie cracks a joke in the middle of it all.

Ellie still feels like this is all going to come crumbling down around her any second, but until it does, she’s decided to enjoy it and lose herself in Dina.

“Oh, fuck, Ellie,” Dina groans, and Ellie moves her fingers as best she can, and Dina nods, biting her lip. Pressing the heel of her hand up, Ellie gives Dina some outside friction, and within a minute, Dina is coming around Ellie’s fingers.

“Holy fuck,” Ellie mumbles, and she watches Dina tremble and shake, the grip she has on Ellie’s breasts almost painful.

“Well this is way better than anything you have out there.” A drawling voice comes from the door way, and Ellie snaps her head to look at the door. Dina, still stuck in the middle of her orgasm, seems to notice and try to stop, but then Ellie pulls her fingers out and an involuntary sound of pleasure falls from Dina’s lips and Ellie feels warm liquid gather on her stomach.

Cat is in the doorway looking all too pleased with herself. Ellie scrambles to pull a blanket over her and Dina, but she knows it’s too late. Dina gingerly climbs off of Ellie and lies squished between Ellie and the wall, trying to hide, still breathing heavily as her muscles start to relax.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” Ellie spits, reaching down beside the cot and grabbing her discarded t-shirt. She pulls it on and finds a pair of shorts nearby, wriggling into those under the blanket.

“When has knocking ever been any fun?” Cat asks, and she leans against the doorframe. “Hey, Dina.”

“Hi,” Dina says, her voice muffled from where she’s gone completely under the blankets.

“Ellie’s treating you right, I see,” Cat says with that feral grin of hers. Ellie flips her off, her cheeks flushed. She can still feel the residue on her hand and stomach, and she thinks how the room must smell, and she can’t believe Cat managed to walk in at that exact moment.

“Can you, like, fuck off?” Ellie says, standing and shooing Cat out of the room and slamming the door shut. She turns and leans up against it. “Dina?”

Dina peeks up from under the covers and Ellie can’t help but burst into laughter. Dina breaks too, and Ellie sits down beside her, leaning down and pulling the blanket from Dina’s mouth. They’re still laughing, but Ellie soothes her embarrassment with a kiss.

“She’s going to be really annoying,” Ellie says, “but only for, like, two weeks. Max.”

Dina groans and lets Ellie pull the blankets down further. “How the fuck is this our luck?”

“No clue,” Ellie says with a shrug, “but that was…really hot. Like, you kind of…y’know.”

“Shut up,” Dina says, “just…we can never speak of this moment ever again. Deal?”

“I mean,” Ellie passes Dina a t-shirt and her jeans, “I can make that deal with you, but we both know Cat isn’t going to let this go.”

“Do you think,” Dina pulls the shirt over her head, and Ellie tries her best not to stare at where the fabric clings and is slightly see-through, “do you think she’ll tell anyone?”

“Oh.” Ellie casts her eyes down at the floor. “Um, if we ask her not to, she probably won’t. She’s a fuckin’ asshole, but she’s not like…a dick.”

“Right,” Dina says, rolling her eyes, “because that’s so different.” She stands and hops into her jeans. “Come on, then. Let’s go face the wolves.”

Cat is sitting on a beanbag chair, lounging decadently. She wiggles her eyebrows at the two of them, grinning ear to ear.

“So,” she looks them up and down, “you two are getting along.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ellie says, sitting down across from Cat.

“Are you guys, like, dating now?” Cat looks between the two of them. “All of Ellie’s dreams are coming true.”

“Shut your face,” Ellie snaps. Her cheeks feel hot, and Dina looks at her with a quizzical brow. “We’re just…you know what, it’s actually none of your business.”

Cat holds up her hands in mock surrender, still smirking. “Fine then. Be like that. I retract my congratulations.”

“And we’d appreciate it if you, like,” Dina crosses her arms over her chest, “didn’t tell anyone.”

“Oh,” Cat’s smile drops a bit, and Ellie hates the way her eyes flit over to her in that pitying way, “so this is just, like, your dirty little secret?”

“Well, that’s a really grody way of putting it,” Dina says, “but sure. If that will help you keep your mouth shut.”

Cat is still looking at Ellie, and Ellie stares down at her bare feet.

“Right,” Cat scratches at her nose. “So, what you’re using Ellie as your little college-girl experimentation?” Her voice is laced with venom, and Ellie really wishes she would just shut the fuck up and leave.

“No,” Dina says, and now it’s her who can’t keep eye contact with Cat, “I never said that. I just…it’s complicated, okay?”

“Is it, though?” Cat grabs the cigarette behind her ear and twirls it around in her fingers. “To me, it doesn’t seem that complicated. You’re using Ellie. Ellie’s letting you. You’re both getting laid.”

“I’m not _using_ anyone,” Dina protests, “and quite honestly, it really _is_ none of your fucking business.”

Cat looks to Ellie again, who just shrugs and looks away. “Fine.” Cat stands and points the cigarette at Ellie, the unlit end like the muzzle of a gun as Ellie stares it down. “Call me when she fucks you over.”

Ellie rolls her eyes, but the racing of her heart and the tightening of her throat contradicts any outward blasé attitude. Cat weaves around the shelf and the door clicks shut behind her, leaving Ellie and Dina in silence.

Dina climbs onto Ellie’s lap, cupping her face in her hands and pulling her in for a kiss. Ellie returns it with as much passion as she can muster, but it feels half-hearted on her part. All the euphoria of ten minutes ago is gone, and she’s left with a throbbing anxiety in her chest.

“Hey,” Dina pulls back and searches out Ellie’s eyes with her own, “you okay?”

“Sure,” Ellie says, and she hides behind another kiss, her tongue pressing into Dina’s mouth.

“Cat is such a dickhead,” Dina mumbles. Ellie nods, kissing her again. Dina sighs into Ellie’s mouth, and Ellie grips her hips, pulling her closer.

“Sorry if she,” Ellie nips at Dina’s lower lip, “pissed you off.”

“She doesn’t know shit,” Dina says as Ellie kisses down her chin, following the line of her neck, “about me, or you.”

“Mhm,” Ellie says, unable to find the right words to fill the space. Her lips pass over a day-old hickey.

“I’m not using you,” Dina says. Ellie pauses and pulls back slowly. Dina combs her fingers through Ellie’s hair, pushing it back from her forehead.

“Dina, it’s okay,” Ellie shrugs and Dina pinches the skin at the back of her neck. “Ow!”

“I know I’ve fucked up,” Dina says, “and I know you probably don’t really trust me. But I promise, Ellie, I’m not just…you’re not an experiment, okay? You’re…you’re so much more than that.”

Ellie takes a shaky breath. The words are overwhelming, pulling her chest open and filling it. Her throat is too tight, so she just nods and wraps her arms around Dina, tucking her forehead into the crook of her neck and holding her close. Fingers run repetitively through her hair, nails scratching at her scalp just slightly.

“You gonna cry?” Dina asks, and her voice is gentle, teasing. Ellie pinches her, and Dina squeaks.

“You’re such a dick,” Ellie grumbles. Dina laughs and coaxes Ellie to lift her head. Their noses bump and Dina’s fingers trace the scar that cuts through Ellie’s eyebrow.

“Takes one to know one.” Dina grins, and Ellie grins, and then they’re kissing again, falling back into the beanbags and shoving clothes aside. Ellie’s mind fleetingly remembers the unlocked door to the store room they’re in, but then Dina is shirtless beneath her and all thoughts of anything else go flying from her head.

***

Spring comes with a flurry of rain in April, and then blooming flowers in May. The sun is warmer, the air is fresh. In the distance, the mountains are still capped with snow, but down in Jackson it’s been melted away.

Jesse and Dina still weren’t talking. It was starting to make things awkward for Ellie, not to mention the added layer of the fact that she was now sleeping with Dina. Jesse didn’t know that, but Ellie knew that he was a little bit pissed off by how often Ellie and Dina were hanging out.

On a rare night where Dina had other plans, Ellie and Jesse had driven out to the rocky beach near town. It was one of those nights where no one felt like doing anything, so doing nothing was perfectly entertaining.

“You seem like you’ve been in a good mood recently,” Jesse remarks as Ellie hums to herself.

“Oh,” Ellie shrugs and bounces her heels off the front bumper of her car, “yeah, I guess so.”

“You’re getting laid, aren’t you,” Jesse states, and Ellie tries to hide the flush in her cheeks.

“No,” she says. Jesse fixes her with a look that clearly says ‘no one is buying that lie, man’. “Okay. Maybe. How did you know?”

“Well, for one,” Jesse hold up one finger, “you’ve got like, four hickies.”

Ellie slaps a hand to her neck. “Fuck.”

“And then, combined with your cheerful mood,” Jesse shrugs, “it’s elementary, my dear Watson.”

“Nerd,” Ellie teases. Jesse smiles.

“So who is it?” Jesse asks, and Ellie sighs. “Did Dina finally hook you up with someone that doesn’t suck?”

Ellie chokes on her own spit, and Jesse pats her back as she recovers. “Um, sure.”

“Who is it?” Jesse asks again, shaking Ellie’s shoulder. “C’mon, I won’t tell anyone. Tell me.”

“You’re so annoying,” Ellie groans, lying back until she’s pressed against the windshield. It’s uncomfortable, but she prefers it to Jesse’s insistent shaking.

“It’s gotta be someone I don’t know,” Jesse continues, “because I’d know if someone I knew was, y’know, sampling some feminine cuisine.”

“Ew, that’s disgusting,” Ellie says, grimacing at him. “Just let it be, okay?”

“Tell me,” Jesse says. “Look, if you’re like, _embarrassed_ , don’t be. I’m the guy who spent two years trying to date someone who clearly didn’t want me. I’m the biggest schmuck here.”

“You’re not a schmuck,” Ellie says. Jesse shrugs and runs a hand through his hair. The moustache has finally been shaved off, and he looks older in the pale moonlight. Ellie’s never thought much about that, about how they’re all growing up. One day Jesse might just be that guy she was friends with for a few years while he was here. She might just be that lesbian friend he tells stories about at parties in ten years.

Ellie’s heart twinges at the thought.

“Hey, Jesse?” He looks at her and his face is set in its usual attentiveness. “You’re uh, you’re my best friend.”

He smiles. “Yeah, you’re mine too.”

“Sap.”

“You started it.”

Ellie shrugs and closes her eyes. “I don’t recall.” Jesse laughs, and it echoes off the water.

“Best friends should tell each other who they’re sleeping with,” Jesse says.

“Relentless,” Ellie sighs. She cracks an eye open and looks at him, the way the moon backlights his profile. “It’s Dina.”

Ellie claps a hand over her mouth. She did not mean to say that. _Fuck,_ why did she say that?

Jesse’s brow furrows. “What’s Dina?”

“Nothing,” Ellie scrambles, trying to find a way to fix this, “uh, Dina set me up with a friend.”

“You said ‘it’s Dina’,” Jesse repeats, and then his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and he looks down at Ellie. “You’re sleeping with Dina?”

“Um,” is all Ellie can get out before Jesse is hopping off the hood of the truck.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jesse says, and Ellie sits up, her fingers twisting together.

“Jesse, I’m really sorry,” she says, but he clearly doesn’t believe her.

“I always knew you liked her,” Jesse says, “but I never thought you would fucking _take her_ from me.”

“I didn’t take shit from you,” Ellie says, and her anger lights in her chest, “Dina was never _yours_.”

“What the fuck do you know about it?” Jesse yells, and Ellie hops off the car.

“More than you, apparently,” Ellie spits back, and she feels hot flames run under her skin.

Jesse looks at her, and she can see the hurt and the betrayal in his face, the way he shakes his head at her. “Some friend you are.” He turns and storms away.

“Yeah, walk away,” Ellie calls after him, “really _fucking_ mature.” He raises a hand and flips her off. Ellie huffs and kicks at the stones on the ground. “Fuckin’ asshole.”

Jesse disappears down the road, and Ellie picks up a rock and tosses it at the river’s surface. It lands with a satisfying splash. She throws another one, and another.

It doesn’t make her feel any less like punching herself in the face. 


	13. Abby / you have to show them that you're really not scared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what's Abby up to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW; no descriptions but mentions of familial abuse in the first section. 
> 
> Chapter title from "Beat It" by Michael Jackson

“Abby!” Coach Dixon calls from the ropes, and Abby steps back from the bag she was hitting. He’s waving her over, and she approaches the ring.

“What’s up, coach?” She rolls her shoulder. It hadn’t been the same since that fight with Ellie Williams on the front lawn.

“Summer showcase fight is in two weeks,” Dixon says, “you gonna be ready for it?”

“When have I ever _not_ been ready for a fight?” Abby asks with a cocky grin. Dixon grins and pats her shoulder.

“Atta girl,” he says, “now, I’m going to pair you with Manny. I know he’s above your weight class, but he’s fast and I need to see how you’re moving with that shoulder.” Abby nods and climbs into the ring. Manny is at the corner across from her, chatting with Nick.

Stretching her neck, Abby listens to her Coach’s usual spiel. Light on her feet, quick on her toes, hands up, don’t let your guard drop for a second, never expose your back. Every coach always has the same tips before a fight, and now that Abby doesn’t need reminding of all those tips, they play more like a routine, a ritual.

Manny gives her a grin as they tap gloves. She returns it.

Fighting Manny is always fun. He’s big and fast, and Abby feels like she learns something new every time they meet in the ring. Neither of them pulls punches, both of the same mind that you never learn to take a hit if you never get hit.

The round is quick, their Coach stopping them to give tips, and Abby and Manny share an eyerolls as he tells them things they feel they already know.

They practice a few more times, until they’re both dripping with sweat, their arms hanging loosely at their sides. Coach dismisses them with some choice words about winning attitudes and “visualizing success”. Abby takes the words with her usual grain of salt, walking back to the locker rooms with Manny.

“You hit hard today,” Manny says, punching Abby lightly in the arm as they walk.

“You didn’t,” she teases back.

Manny laughs, and he leans against the men’s locker room door. “I like you, Abs.”

“Who doesn’t.” Abby checks the time, and curses. “I’ve got to hurry up and bounce.”

“You’ve been busy a lot lately,” Manny says with narrowed eyes, “are you seeing someone new?”

“You wish,” Abby says, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She pushes through the door, grabbing her bag from her locker and heading to the showers. The water takes a while to warm up, but Abby doesn’t waste time waiting. She hisses under the cold water and lathers up, a few fresh bruises starting to bloom across her body.

It only takes her ten minutes to rinse off and get dressed, her bag hanging half open as she hurries out of the athletics building.

Without a car, the jog into town is long enough to get her heart pumping, the afternoon sun warm where it hits her bare arms. Checking her watch, Abby picks up the pace. Yara and Lev were probably thinking she’d stood them up. Later than she’d hoped, but sooner than she’d expected, Abby turns the corner and the arcade comes into view, its neon sign lit up. She doesn’t see Yara or Lev from across the parking lot, but she makes her way through the parked cars and checks inside the entrance.

Nope.

Abby checks her watch again. She’s not so late that she thinks they would have just left, so Abby pushes open the doors and heads inside.

Saturday afternoon is a younger crowd, young high school kids and middle schoolers, even some tiny kids that Abby thinks should really be here with an adult. She scans the crowds, trying to spot familiar faces.

“You looking for someone?” Ellie Williams calls out to her from behind the concession bar. Abby walks over with a tight smile, but she feels braced for a fight. Can never be sure how long a truce can last.

“Two kids,” Abby says, “uh, a girl about fifteen, and her brother? He’s around twelve I think?”

“The kids you’re always with,” Ellie says, and Abby nods. “Haven’t seen them.”

“Fuck,” Abby turns and looks around the arcade again. There’s no sign of Lev’s shaved head, or Yara’s signature braided crown. “Well, thanks.”

“Sure,” Ellie answers, grabbing a rag and wiping down the counter, “whatever.”

Abby resists the urge to roll her eyes. Doing them both the favour of not having an awkward ‘bye’, she just turns and heads back out of the arcade.

“Where the fuck _are_ you?” Abby whispers to herself. Hefting her bag up her shoulders, she sets off in the direction of Lev and Yara’s house. She hasn’t been back since that first night, but Jackson isn’t a big town, and Abby’s got a pretty reliable memory.

Her sneakers tap on the sidewalks in time with her heartbeat. There’s a prickling at the back of her neck, like some sort of sixth sense that’s telling her she’s heading towards danger, a primitive reaction trying to get her to turn around. She ignores it, but her hands clench into fists as she draws nearer.

Abby stands at the foot of the front path that leads up the bungalow. There’s some noise coming from inside, and Abby pushes the chain-link gate open. As she steps onto the concrete pathway, the front door flies open and Yara comes running out.

Her hair is a mess, strands falling from her normally carefully-braided hair. There’s a cut on her forehead, blood running down the side of her face. Abby stops, frozen in her tracks.

“Abby?” Yara says, and she runs to the older girl, colliding with her and wrapping her arms around Abby’s waist. “Abby, please, you have to help.”

Abby grips her shoulders her holds her at arm’s length. “Are you okay?” She looks her up and down for more signs of injury, but Yara just nods. Abby can feel her heart racing in her chest, her skin prickling.

“Our mom is off her meds,” Yara says, choking back gulps of air, “please, she’s got Lev in there.” Abby looks at the front door, hanging ajar as the light breeze swings it back and forth.

“Go to the arcade,” Abby instructs, handing Yara her backpack, “get inside, and wait for me there, okay?” Yara nods, shouldering the bag. “There’s a small address book in my bag. Call my…call a guy named Owen. Tell him where I am, tell him who you are. He’ll come find you, I promise he’s a good guy, okay?”

“Owen,” Yara repeats, “okay.”

“And ask whoever’s working for a bandage,” Abby instructs as Yara starts running. She can’t tell if the girl heard her.

Turning, Abby faces down the house. Her heartbeat pounds in her ears, a storm of nerves in her stomach. Her feet carry her forward, the sound of a loud crash spurring her on. She pulls the front door open, stepping inside.

The house is dark, walls tinted yellow from years of someone smoking inside. It smells like it, too, like stale tobacco. The shag rug under her shoes feels stiff, like no one has paid it any mind for years. The sounds are coming from her right, and she follows them. The rug muffles her footsteps, and she rounds the corner to see a room in absolute disarray.

There’s a woman, on the ground. She’s very still, lying on top of a broken coffee table. The wood is splintered around her. Abby swallows her nerves and steps forward. Her shoes crunch on a broken plate.

“Lev?” She calls out softly, keeping her eyes on the unmoving woman across the room. “Lev, it’s Abby. It’s okay, you can come out.”

There’s a rustling from behind the curtains. Abby freezes, raising her hands.

A small hand pulls the curtain back, and Abby’s chest squeezes at the bruised face it exposes. Lev is crouched behind the curtain, tears glistening on his cheeks. A long cut runs down the side of his face, almost following the line of his cheekbone.

“Hey,” Abby approaches slowly, like one would a wounded animal, “hey, it’s okay.” She kneels down in front of him and holds out her hand. “Come on. I’ll get you out of here.”

“Is she dead?” Lev asks, his voice trembling.

Abby looks over her shoulder. “I don’t know.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Lev whispers, “she just…she wouldn’t stop. I p-pushed her and she fell and she didn’t get back up.”

“Okay,” Abby nods, “it’s okay. Take my hand.” Lev puts his hand in hers, and Abby pulls gently until Lev is standing in front of her. She looks around and grabs a blanket from the floor, wrapping it around his shoulders. “Where’s the phone?” Lev points to a doorway at the far end of the room. Abby tucks to blanket tightly around him and carefully steers him by the shoulders through the doorway.

The kitchen is an offensive clash of harvest gold colours, floral patterns decorating faded tile backsplash. Like the rest of the house, it smells of old smoke. Abby finds the phone on the wall; the plastic is a puke-green colour. Her fingers hover over the rotary dial for a second, and then she takes a deep breath and dials three numbers.

***

Abby sits next to the bed, the sounds of the busy hospital filling her ears. Lev is sitting on the bed, his stitches fresh on his cheek.

“Is Yara going to be here soon?” Lev asks.

“Uh, I think so,” Abby says, “Owen should get her here soon.” Lev nods and picks at his nails.

“Have you heard anything about my mom?” He asks without looking up, his voice barely more than a whisper. Abby sighs and shakes her head.

“Try not to worry too much,” Abby says, “I still need to know that you’re okay.”

Lev shrugs and his fingers gingerly trace the bandage that covers his stitches. “I’m fine.”

Abby doesn’t answer, just keeps her eyes on him. He seems pretty fine, true to his word, but Abby feels pretty confident that it’s just a matter of the shock needing to wear off. She knows firsthand how powerful adrenaline can be.

Looking around the hospital, Abby feels a flood of memories come back. She grew up in a hospital not unlike this, long hours waiting for her dad to finish surgery so he could take her home and tuck her in. Colouring in the OR gallery, a steady rotation of nurses to help her with her homework. The same nurses patching her up as she took up boxing, clicking their tongues at her and sneaking her extra Jell-O.

For a moment, there’s that homesick pang in her chest. Just a twinge for the life she used to have.

“Lev!”

Yara’s voice comes from across the ER, and Abby’s eyes land on her. Owen is walking in behind her, his eyes searching the room for Abby.

When he sees her, she feels a ghostly butterfly in her stomach.

Yara rushes over, pulling Lev into a tight hug. Owen comes to a stop at the foot of the bed. Abby watches the siblings reunite, Yara checking over Lev’s face. Owen catches Abby’s eye and nods at the far side of the room.

Abby stands and follows Owen across the room, checking back over her shoulder to make sure the two kids are alright.

“Abby, what the hell is going on?” Owen asks, his voice low. Abby crosses her arms over her chest, holding his gaze. “Who are these kids?”

“They’re my…friends,” she says. It feels dismissive to call them friends, when over the past months, Lev and Yara have started to feel like family. It would be too hard to explain to Owen, Abby thinks, too hard to get him to understand what was going on. 

“Since when do you hang out with kids?” Owen is looking at her, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed, the very portrait of suspicion.

“Since you decided to have one,” Abby spits back. She knows it’s not a fair accusation, but she makes it anyways.

Owen sighs, running a hand down his face. “Really? You’re bringing that up?” He looks around, furtive, like he’s checking for Mel’s spies. “Abby, I told you. If you’d just asked me…I would have been with you.” He stares directly into her eyes. Abby feels herself almost flinch. “I still will. If you want me.”

There’s a sickly feeling churning in her stomach.

Owen doesn’t look so handsome anymore.

“You disgust me,” Abby spits, quiet and low. “Go home to your family, Owen. Get your head out of your ass.” She turns then, ignoring the way he imploringly asks her to stop, the way he says her name, and she goes back over to where Yara and Lev are sitting together on the hospital bed, Lev tucked into Yara’s side.

“Yara, I’m going to get a doctor to look at that cut on your head,” Abby says, and Yara nods. Both kids look exhausted, and Abby can feel her heart go out to them. “You’re safe here, guys, okay? I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

***

It takes over 24 hours at the hospital and the world’s longest conversation with social services for Abby to be able to take Lev and Yara home. She doesn’t take them to their home, instead walking with them to the campus. It’s a long walk without a car, and Abby ends up giving Lev a piggyback ride most of the way, the boy too tired to keep his eyes open.

She sets them up on the floor of her dorm room, stealing the cushions from the lounge and making two makeshift beds. The kids fall asleep quickly, and Abby does too, collapsing onto her mattress face first.

When she wakes up, Abby isn’t surprised to see that her new roommates are still sleeping. She tiptoes around them, grabbing a change of clothes and heading in to the bathroom she shares with Nora.

Looking in the mirror, Abby grimaces at her reflection. She looks like crap, dark circles under her eyes and that sallow, pallid look that comes from not having eaten enough. She gives her face a quick wash, changing into fresh clothes and redoing her long braid.

A note is scribbled on a piece of scrap paper, telling Lev and Yara that she’s gone to get some food for them and to stay put. She lays out some clean clothing options for them and tells them to make themselves at home.

Campus at the end of May is quiet, most students having gone home and foregoing a spring/summer semester. The only ones who stay on are usually the athletes who still have games or tournaments, or those who want to get some extra credits under their belts. That still only leaves around a quarter of the usual population on campus, and Abby loves the quiet.

No lines in the dining hall, no waiting for her favourite machines at the gym. No one walking too goddamn slowly in front of her in the hallways.

It’s paradise.

Abby fills her tray up with muffins and fruit, grabbing a few cartons of orange juice from the cooling display, and she pays up at the counter. She feels a bit foolish, with this big tray of food in her hands, but the thought of the two kids who are probably starving and still scared…well, it knocks any embarrassment she might be feeling.

On her way back across campus, Abby cuts through the small arboretum they have on campus. It’s hardly more than a quad between buildings, but it’s full of blossoming trees and beautiful flowers.

The path is winding and shaded, and as she comes to end of it, Abby nearly bumps into someone.

“Fuck, sorry,” she says, trying to keep the tray balanced.

“You hungry?”

Abby looks up and sees, for the second time in as many days, Ellie Williams giving her a puzzled look. Beside her is her friend, that girl Dina who lives in Abby’s dorm. She’s looking between the two of them like she’s getting ready to jump in and stop a brawl.

It’s a fair assumption.

“Uh,” Abby looks at the mountain of food in front of her, “yeah. Yeah, just…had a hard training session.”

“Right,” Ellie draws the word out, “well…enjoy all of…that.” She smirks and steps around Abby, Dina following her but still seeming to be on guard.

“Hey,” Abby calls out after her, and Ellie stops. She turns a bit, just enough to look at Abby. “Thanks for…helping that kid out, last night.”

“How do you know I did anything?” Ellie retorts, but there’s a noticeable tint of red in her cheeks.

“Right,” Abby says, “I guess I don’t.”

Dina looks back and forth between them like she’s watching a tennis match, clearly bewildered at the way this conversation is going.

“Is the,” Ellie hesitates, and Abby raises an eyebrow as she waits for the rest of the sentence, “is the kid okay?”

“She’s okay,” Abby confirms. Ellie nods, and then she’s turning away again and walking down the path. Dina is at her elbow, and Abby doesn’t miss the not-so-subtle way their hands bump together with every step they take.

_Huh. Way to go, Williams._

***

Abby sits Yara and Lev down in the stands, a few rows back from the ring.

“Okay,” she says, fishing around in her pocket for a few bills, “get yourselves some food, or whatever you want. I need to go back and get warmed up, but you’ll be okay, right?”

“We’ll be fine,” Yara answers as Lev takes the money, carefully folding it up and tucking it into the pocket of his button up shirt. “Thank you, Abby.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “Okay. I’m going now. Don’t accept any drinks from anyone, okay?”

“Abby,” Lev rolls his eyes, “we’re not stupid.”

“Okay,” she holds her hands up in surrender, “okay. I’m going now.” She jogs down the steps, waving through the growing crowd to get to the locker rooms. The big Wolf on the door fills her with energy, with pride for her school and her team.

“Abby, nice of you to join us,” Dixon says, and Abby gives him a weak smile as an apology. She grabs her stuff from her locker and goes to change in a stall, installed specifically when she and Nora were the first women on the team. They have their own locker room at the gym, but when it comes to match days, Coach likes to have the whole team in one room.

She changes quickly and sits next to Nora on the bench. Her teammate gives her a bit of a worried look – it’s not like Abby to be late for anything, especially not a match day. Abby bumps her shoulder against Nora’s trying to reassure her. They both sit quietly and listen to Coach’s usual pep talk – do it for yourself, do it for your team, do it for whatever makes you want to win, there’s only losers and winners, hard work beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard, etc.

Abby’s heard it a million times.

Instead of tuning in, she closes her eyes and leans forward, elbows on her knees. She pictures her dad at her first national tournament, cheering her on from the sidelines. The car ride home after that tournament, her entire body sore and aching, but the heavy gold medal resting on her chest erasing all that pain.

 _You did good back there,_ she can hear him saying, _you’re a real champion, Abs. Take this all the way._

The words felt like nothing in that moment, small and inconsequential. Now, Abby keeps them nestled close to her heart every time she steps into the ring.

“Okay,” her coach’s voice cuts through her thoughts, “warm-ups. Let’s go.”

Abby’s fight is fourth. She spends the first two fights before her just warming up, loosening up her joints and getting her muscles ready for action. The third fight she watches, Manny and a guy from Colorado State duke it out. Manny lays the guy out in the sixth round, and Abby gives him a big thumbs up before she pulls on her gloves. They bump gloves as he walks past her, and Abby steps up into the ring.

The announcer introduces both fighters, and Abby steps forward to tap gloves. The girl across from her is bigger, but that’s to be expected. There are so few women in collegiate level boxing that weight classes have tons of range.

Abby returns to her corner and takes a drink of water. Her mouthguard is popped in, and she rolls her shoulders. In the stands, she can see Yara and Lev snacking away on a huge bag of popcorn.

It brings a smile to her face.

“Hey,” Dixon’s voice calls her back, “you in there today?”

“Always,” Abby says, reaching out and tapping his shoulder with her glove. He doesn’t smile, and she clears her throat. “Don’t worry, coach. I’m good.”

“I know it’s just a showcase,” Dixon says, and his voice is low and intense, almost frightening, “but if you aren’t taking this seriously, there will be consequences.”

Abby nods. She accepts the hand he offers, bumping her glove against it. Turning to face her opponent, Abby takes a deep breath.

The bell rings.

The other girl comes at her like a charging bull. Abby sidesteps, but the girl is surprisingly light on her feet, side-stepping at the end of her charge and cornering Abby on the ropes. Abby holds her guard up, taking the blows.

The girl hits like a hammer.

Abby manages to land a few hits herself, and her opponent backs off. Abby shakes out her arms and advances. She keeps a safe distance, just out of reach, as she reads the other girl’s stance. Her guard is up, but she holds it a bit too high, clearly more concerned with a shot to the face.

She’s confident that a hit from Abby to the torso won’t hurt.

Abby smirks.

Her opponent advances again, and this time Abby ducks under the swing, landing a hard jab to her ribs. She follows it up with a strike to her sternum, dancing out of reach before her opponent can retaliate.

The first round ends soon after, neither girl landing all that many more hits.

Abby barely listens as Dixon talks her ear off about strategy. She takes a few sips of water and gets ready for the next round. Lev and Yara are giving her big smiles and four thumbs up.

The second and third rounds are much the same, except both girls take a few more hits. Abby can feel the usual heat in her ribs that tells her they’re going to bruise.

The fourth round, Abby takes the offensive. She can tell the girl opposite her isn’t a stamina fighter, usually relying on her bigger frame and clear strength to win her fights. Her exhaustion is obvious in this round, and Abby takes full advantage of slow swings and delayed steps. Her hits land hard and fast, and it doesn’t take long before her opponent is being tapped out.

Abby hops out of the ring, and Dixon is giving her some sort of disapproving look.

“You could have ended that in the second round.”

He waves her away, already turning to Jordan and getting him ready. Abby just rolls her eyes, used to the never-ending lack of approval from her coach.

Lev and Yara are waiting for her outside the locker room, offering up a cold can of soda and lots of congratulations.

“That was so cool!” Lev is still saying as they walk back to the seats in the stands. “Can you teach me how to hit like that?” He mimes a few different punches, and Abby exchanges a small smile with Yara at her brother’s excitement.

“Sure,” Abby says, “I can do that.”

They sit together and watch the rest of the fights. Abby gives them play-by-play analyses, and when they’re all back in her dormitory that night, she realises that, for the first time in a long time, her heart is full with the feeling of family.

She knows things will change, once their mother is released from the hospital. There’s a thousand battles that will need to be fought, and her stomach sinks at the thought of sending the two of them back into that house. This couldn’t have been the first time something like this has happened. It wouldn’t be the last, Abby knew that.

An idea starts forming in her head, something crazy and ridiculous. But the more she thinks about it, the more she can’t let it go.

“Hey, guys?” Lev and Yara look up from where they’re playing snap. Abby sits forward on her bed. “I have something I want to ask you about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're bringing it all home, my friends. One more after this, if I can contain myself. 
> 
> I'll save the feelings for then, but as always, thank you a million times over for your support. Every comment I get just like, adds five years onto my life. 
> 
> See you guys next time!


	14. Ellie / and i think it's gonna be a long long time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Rocketman" by Elton John.

The phone rings five times before a man answers.

“ _Hello_ , _Williams residence.”_

Ellie clears her throat. “Um, hi. This is Ellie. Williams, Ellie Williams. Is Anna there?” Her mother’s name still feels foreign on her tongue. It’s not her first time calling, but it is the first time that someone aside from Anna has answered.

“ _Oh,_ ” the man, who Ellie supposes is her uncle, pauses and Ellie hears the scratch of a hand covering the mouthpiece. She taps her fingers against the counter as she waits. “ _Ellie?”_

“Yeah?”

“ _I’m sorry, but Anna isn’t here.”_

“Oh,” Ellie frowns, “do you know when she’ll be back? I can call later.”

There’s another pause, the muffled sounds of a conversation in the background. “ _I’m sorry, Ellie. I don’t know where she went._ ”

“What?”

“ _A few days ago, she was gone,”_ he says, “ _and she hasn’t come back._ ”

“Have you looked for her?” Ellie can feel her heart squeezing. “Did you call the cops?”

“ _She broke the terms of her probation,_ ” the man says, and Ellie wants to reach through the phone and shake him and tell him that that shouldn’t matter, that her mother is missing, that’s she’s losing her again. “ _I’m sorry, Ellie. If my sister left, she doesn’t want to be found_.”

“But,” Ellie twists the cord of the phone in her free hand, “I just…she wouldn’t just leave.”

“ _I’ll be sure to call you if I hear anything,_ ” her uncle says. “ _Don’t take it personally. Anna’s never been reliable._ ” The phone hangs up with a click. The dial tone hums in Ellie’s ear, loud and mocking. She slams the phone down, hanging it up. The cord dangles uselessly from the counter.

“Fuck,” she says to the empty arcade.

It’s been almost two months since meeting her mother. Two months of weekly phone calls, of slowly wading through the swamp of awkwardness that spanned between them. It had been hard, slow, painstaking work, and Ellie had really thought that maybe…

Clearly, she shouldn’t have thought anything.

The phone rings, and Ellie picks it up so fast she nearly drops it.

“Hello?” It’s not the way she’s supposed to answer the arcade’s phone, but technically she’s not on shift, and the arcade isn’t even open.

“ _Hey,_ ” Dina’s voice comes through the earpiece, “ _what are you doing tonight?_ ”

Ellie tries to ground herself, tries to just put the previous conversation from her mind. “Just working, I think.”

“ _Think again_ ,” Dina says, “ _I have a surprise for you._ ”

“A surprise?”

 _“Mhm. You’re going to love it_.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Okay, sure. I’ll love it.”

“ _Shift over at ten?_ ”

“You know it.”

“ _Rad. I’ll see you then. Meet me out front.”_

Ellie agrees and they hang up. With ten hours to kill, and a whole shift to get through, the day seems to stretch out in front of her forever. The arcade fills up around five, and finally, time starts to pass in a way that feels normal, reasonable, manageable. Ellie’s head swims with an ocean of thoughts the whole time, distracted enough to spill hot cheese all over her shoes.

Leaving Sam in charge of the close, Ellie spends a few minutes trying to rinse the cheese stink out of her sneakers. All she manages to do is make her shoes wet as well as stinky. Giving up, she says bye to Sam and heads out the front doors. There are still a handful of people loitering in the parking lot, lighting up smokes and sitting on hoods of cars. It’s a gorgeous summer night, stars visible even with the light from the surrounding town.

“Ellie!” Dina waves at her, leaning up against something near the entrance of the parking lot. Ellie makes her way to her, her feet damp inside her shoes, scuffing the pavement as she walks.

Dina’s got a wide smile on her face, and as Ellie nears, she figures out why.

“Holy shit,” Ellie picks up the pace, “you finished it?”

The motorcycle gleams under the flickering floodlights, and Dina holds out a helmet for Ellie to take.

“You ready?” Dina asks, and Ellie nods. They pull their helmets on, and Ellie settles in behind Dina.

“Have you driven this much?” She asks, gingerly wrapping her arms around Dina’s waist.

“Sure,” Dina says, and the engine kicks to life. It’s louder than Ellie expected, and then suddenly they’re off. Her arms tighten until she’s holding on to Dina for dear life. They zip through the streets, wind whipping against Ellie’s bare arms. Dina takes a turn out of town, the road darkening as the streetlamps thin out.

They turn down a dirt road, and Dina slows down as they bump down it. The trees clear as they reach the riverbank. Dina cuts the engine and lowers the stand, climbing off the bike and pulling her helmet off.

For a moment, bathed in moonlight with her hair falling around her shoulders, Dina looks ethereal. It takes Ellie’s breath away.

“So, what do you think?” Dina asks, holding her arms out.

Ellie takes off her own helmet and ruffles her hair, trying to work out the helmet head she’s sure she has. “It’s fast.”

Dina rolls her eyes and takes Ellie’s helmet, tossing it to the ground with her own. “You’re such an ass.” Ellie grins and grabs Dina’s wrist, pulling her in close. Their bodies collide, and Dina bites her lip.

“You wanna tell me what we’re doing out here?” Ellie asks, tucking her fingers into the back pockets of Dina’s jeans. Dina’s hands find purchase on Ellie’s shoulders.

“I just took us for a nice drive,” Dina says. Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and Ellie presses her closer. For once, she can’t think of a snarky comeback. Instead, she tilts her head and leans in, fitting her lips to Dina’s. Dina sighs against her, fingers flexing against the back of Ellie’s neck. Her tongue is warm where it slips past Ellie’s lips.

“Sure,” Ellie mumbles, “that’s all you had in mind?” Dina shrugs, leaving lingering kisses on Ellie’s lips, never long enough to intensify. There’s a warm ball in Ellie’s gut, smoldering as Dina’s fingers scratch at the base of her scalp.

“Maybe I didn’t have anything particular in mind,” Dina says. Her lips brush Ellie’s as she speaks, and Ellie feels like a fool, chasing after Dina’s lips, desperate to feel them on hers.

“Motorbikes are way less conducive to sex,” Ellie says, squeezing her hands in Dina’s pockets. The other girl jumps a little at the movement, but her smile is ever-present. “If this was my car, we could be in the backseat.”

“Is that all I’m good for, now?” Dina asks. “You just hang out with me so we can get horizontal?”

“No, no,” Ellie starts backtracking, “that’s not what I meant, not at all, Dina -”

Dina laughs and pulls Ellie in for a long kiss, their lips sliding together. Ellie whimpers as teeth scrape along her bottom lip.

“It was a joke,” Dina tells her, tangling her fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, “now shut up and kiss me.” Ellie smiles, and their kiss is a mess of teeth and quiet laughter.

They stand there, wrapped up in each other and oblivious to the world around them, and all of Ellie’s worries seem to slip away with every touch. There’s no room or time to think about her mother, Dina’s intentions, any of that crap.

All she can focus on is Dina, right here and right now.

Later, when they’ve driven back to the arcade, falling onto Ellie’s cot in a mess of bare skin and desperate lips, and Ellie has come apart to Dina’s hands, Dina props herself up above Ellie and traces the scar that cuts through her eyebrow.

“How did you get this?” She asks.

“I banged my head on the corner of the coffee table when I was three,” Ellie says. “Joel says I was running around pretending to be a lion or something. Just ran right into it. Bled a whole lot, got some stitches and a scar.”

Dina leans in and kisses the scar. A shiver travels down Ellie’s spine. “Cute. I bet you were an adorable three-year-old.”

“And I only got cuter, right?” Ellie says, reveling in Dina’s laughter. She nods and kisses down Ellie’s cheek to her lips, coaxing a moan from the back of her throat.

“Totally cute,” Dina whispers, a secret that Ellie swallows. When they part, Dina lies down beside her, pulling her arm underneath her head like a pillow. Ellie turns her head, pressing her nose into Dina’s hair.

“You’re cute, too,” Ellie mumbles. Dina turns and gives her a soft smile.

“Are you going to that community centre dance next week?” She asks, nudging Ellie’s nose with her own.

“I dunno,” Ellie tightens her arm around Dina’s shoulders, pulling her closer and turning until their fronts are pressed together, “should I?”

“Well,” Dina says, drawing the word out, “I’ll be there. I hear the Anglican Church ladies are catering, which means there might be Jell-O salad, if we’re lucky.”

“I do really like Jell-O salad,” Ellie says as she tilts her head to try and capture Dina’s lips with her own. Dina rolls her eyes, and her lips are soft where they move against Ellie’s. It’s a lazy kiss, one that burns slow and warm, one that could last forever if the world could always stay on the other side of the door.

***

The community centre is decked out in paper decorations, all neon colours and varying shapes. An out of date disco ball glistens in the pinspot lights, reflections dancing around the room.

Ellie sips whiskey from a plastic cup as she watches the crowd dance. She’d been late to the dance after closing up the arcade and agonizing over her outfit for longer than she had ever done before. When she’d arrived, the sight of Joel chatting with some neighbours near the door had driven her straight to the bar at the back of the room.

Now, looking at the mess of dancing bodies, Ellie’s eyes land on the one person she’s here to see. Head tossed back, laughing at something the man who holds her is saying, Dina looks radiant. Ellie can feel her lips lift into a small smile.

It’s not that Dina said this was a date, but…she did _invite_ Ellie. Clearly, she wants her here. Ellie knows better than to get her hopes up, but there’s no denying that whatever is happening between the two of them is electric, or magical, or…some other beyond cheesy descriptor. It feels like the best thing that Ellie’s ever had.

“Hey.” Ellie looks to her left and sees Jesse standing a few feet away, his hands tucked in the pockets of his acid was jeans. His hair looks feathered, a thin layer of scruff on his face. It’s been a few weeks since they last spoke, and Ellie feels her palms start to sweat with nerves.

“Hey,” she answers hesitantly. He comes a bit closer, leaning up against the bar beside her, a cup nestled against his shoulder as he crosses his arms.

“I hate these things,” Jesse says.

“Tell me about it.”

Across the room, Dina is being whirled around the dancefloor by her partner.

“She’s uh,” Jesse lifts his cup to gesture at Dina, “putting on quite the show.”

Ellie smiles into her cup, taking a sip. The whiskey burns perfectly on its way down her throat.

“Just Dina being Dina,” Ellie says.

“Are you guys,” Jesse clears his throat, “still seeing each other.”

Ellie nods. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

“I’m sorry I was such a dick,” Jesse says, and Ellie looks over at him. He’s staring down into his cup, swirling it around.

“It’s okay,” Ellie starts.

“No, it isn’t,” Jesse cuts her off. He lifts his eyes and looks at her. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I was caught off guard, and I was still upset with Dina, and…yeah. I was a dick. And I’m really sorry.”

“Really, Jesse,” Ellie gives him a little smile, “it’s cool.”

“Yeah?”

“Always,” Ellie says. Jesse holds his cup out, and she taps hers against it, the plastic hardly making a sound. It feels like the tiny impact travels down Ellie’s arm, lifting a weight off her shoulders that she hadn’t noticed she was carrying.

The song comes to an end and they both watch as Dina is dipped back, her hand brushing the floor. Ellie swears she can hear her laughter from across the room.

“Hey, do you mind if I go take the next dance?” Jesse asks. Ellie looks at him like he’s got two heads.

“Do whatever you want,” Ellie says. Jesse shakes his head at her, but he gives her a grateful smile and puts his cup down. Ellie watches him walk across the floor, the opening piano starting to ring out through the speakers.

He stands in front of Dina, his eyes cast downward. Ellie sees his lips move, but she can’t make out what he’s saying. Dina smiles at him and takes the hand he offers. They both grin as he spins her into his arms, a respectable amount of space left between them. They talk quietly as Jesse sways them to beat.

There’s a pit of jealousy in Ellie’s stomach, a resentful pit that she resents right back. She knows that Dina is done with Jesse, that’s been pretty clear. It’s still not easy for her to watch them dance like that, so effortless and comfortable with each other. And that feeling she has, she knows it’s because Jesse’s a man. How would Dina react if Ellie went over there and cut in, wrapped her arms around Dina’s waist and held her close?

How would she feel, with everyone staring at them?

Ellie takes another sip. There’s a tightness to her chest now, and she tears her eyes away from Jesse and Dina. In the corner of the dancefloor, she sees Abby Anderson and those two kids she’s always hanging out with, cutting some moves and laughing together.

The song fades out, and a new one begins. It’s on old song, maybe twenty years old or so. Ellie recognizes it from the records Joel would play.

Her heart squeezes.

“Ellie!” It’s Dina and Jesse, the latter trailing behind. “You made it!” Dina comes up to her, taking her cup and draining it. Her other hand rests on Ellie’s shoulder.

“I said I would,” Ellie says, tense under Dina’s touch.

“C’mon,” Dina says, her hand sliding down Ellie’s arm and taking her hand, “I love this song.” Ellie lets Dina tug her away from the bar, past Jesse, and to the dancefloor. Couples are swaying together, and Ellie stands still, unsure what Dina wants from her. She doesn’t have to wonder long as Dina takes her hands and puts the at the small of her back, her own arms resting heavy on Ellie’s shoulders.

Dina leads them as they sway, Sam Cooke crooning over the speakers.

“I have a very serious question for you,” she says. Ellie feels her heart seize in her chest, and she tries to control her face. “How bad do I smell?” Dina’s smile settles Ellie’s nerves, and she leans in, taking an exaggerated sniff.

“Like a,” she pauses, considering her next words, “hot pile of garbage?”

Dina laughs. “Oh yeah?” She leans in and Ellie’s stomach flips. A sweaty cheek rubs against her own. “How do you like that?” Dina asks, looking all-too pleased with herself.

“Gross,” Ellie complains, but her own smile feels big enough to split her face.

“You love it,” Dina says, and she leans in, resting her chin on Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie’s heart is beating through her entire body, and her eyes dart around the room. It feels like every eye in the room is on her and Dina, and Ellie flexes her fingers against Dina’s back.

“Everyone in this room is staring at us right now,” Ellie mumbles. Dina pulls back from her shoulder, her face hovering beside Ellie’s. Warm breath hits her cheek.

“Is that okay?” Dina asks. Her voice sounds a little nervous, and Ellie shrugs.

“Is it?” She feels like she might throw up, all the unasked questions finding their homes in those two words.

Dina’s face comes into view in front of her. Her eyes search Ellie’s face, and Ellie wishes she knew what Dina was looking for. Fingers tuck a strand of Ellie’s hair behind her ear, and Dina’s lips hover only inches away.

“Oh, Ellie,” she sighs, and then she doesn’t say anything at all. Lips press against Ellie’s and it feels like the first time. Ellie’s almost too stunned to kiss back, and when Dina leans back, Ellie chases her lips and takes her in another gentle kiss. It’s tender and careful, and it fills Ellie with a warm happiness.

They pull apart, slow and with shaking breaths. Ellie can see her own nervous excitement in Dina’s eyes. She wants to say something, to solidify what just happened, to make sure this isn’t a dream.

“Dykes.”

The word cuts through Ellie. Her vision narrows, a hot fire erupting in her chest. She drops her hands from Dina’s waist and turns to find the culprit, the fucking _bigot_ who said that.

Her eyes land on a surly older man. Ellie doesn’t recognize him, she doesn’t know him, but she feels hatred fill her from her toes up to the top of her head. He’s giving her a look that would be better suited landing on a pile of dogshit.

“The fuck did you just say?” She spits, shaking off the hand that Dina wraps around her wrist.

“This is a family event,” the man snarls back at her, “there are children here.”

Dina steps in front of Ellie, a hand against her chest, trying to slow her down. Ellie doesn’t pay her any mind, just tries to keep advancing.

“Ellie,” Dina tries to divert her attention.

“You wanna say it again to my face, dickhead?” Ellie challenges, her hands clenched into fists, blunt nails digging into her palms.

“I don’t take orders from homos,” the man says, but he starts stepping towards Ellie.

Before Ellie can reach him, Joel is there. He shoves the other man’s shoulders.

“Get out of here,” Joel threatens, his voice a low rumble. The music has stopped, everyone in the room staring at them.

The other man seems to size Joel up. He scoffs and spits at Joel’s feet, turning and heading out of the room. Joel’s hands uncurl from fists.

“You okay, kiddo?” He turns, and Ellie glares at him. Her body feels wrong, like every part of her is in conflict with the other.

“I had it handled,” she seethes.

“I know,” he says, “but –”

“I don’t need your fucking help, Joel!”

The words echo between them, around them, and Ellie’s chest rises and falls with the heavy breaths she’s taking.

“Okay.” Joel seems to deflate in front of her, and he bows his head. “Okay.” Ellie watches him leave, the gazes of every person in the room boring into her.

The fire burns out inside her, and she feels empty.

“Ellie,” Dina reaches out from behind her. Ellie shakes her head and shoves her hands in her pockets.

“I’m gonna go,” she mumbles, not able to look Dina in the eye. “I’ll call you.” She pushes her way through the crowd that has pretended to go back to their own business, the music trickling through the speakers again.

She can feel Dina following her as she leaves the community centre. The walk to her car is short, and Ellie unlocks the passenger side door, knowing that there’s no way she’ll be able to drive away before Dina is able to stop her.

The door clicks open and slams shut as Dina sits beside her. Ellie’s knuckles are white where she grips the steering wheel.

“You shouldn’t have yelled at Joel,” Dina says.

Ellie stares resolutely out the windshield. “It wasn’t any of his fucking business.”

“You’re his family, Ellie,” Dina says, and her voice is gentle, “he’s not going to see it that way.”

“He lied to me, Dina,” Ellie snaps, “okay? He lied to me for my whole life. _About_ my whole life. What kind of family does that, huh?”

“What are you talking about?”

Ellie looks over at her. Dina’s face is cast half in shadows, the streetlamp above them leaving them in a hazy, uneven glow.

“I thought my mom was dead,” Ellie says, “for my whole life. I thought she was dead, and then I found dozens and dozens of letters from her that Joel had been intercepting and hiding. Imagine living your whole life, and not knowing anything about yourself.” Dina doesn’t seem to have an answer, and Ellie feels more words sitting heavy on her tongue, aching to come out and be heard. “And now my mom is missing, and she didn’t even tell me. She didn’t call, or…or _write_. She just left. So, I’m thinking maybe family isn’t as important as everyone wants to make me believe it is.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Dina says, and Ellie frowns.

“Fuck you, then.”

“Shut up,” Dina says, “you’re being ridiculous.”

“What’s your problem?” Ellie says, not believing what she’s hearing.

“You,” Dina says with a bit of a laugh, “you’re my problem. Ellie, I’m not going to pretend to understand all the nuances of your relationship with Joel, but anyone with eyes can see that he cares about you. Families suck sometimes, they make mistakes and they piss you off. But family is _family_. And I’m sorry your mom ran off, but honestly? What were you expecting?”

“I don’t fucking _know_ , okay?” Ellie exclaims, and the volume of her voice hurts her own ears. “I just…I’m sick of people disappointing me, and leaving me, and I don’t want to be alone anymore, okay?” Her words fly from her lips almost faster than she can keep pace with. “You don’t get it, you don’t get what it’s like to just have everyone disappoint you all the _fucking_ time.”

Dina sighs, and Ellie looks at her. There’s a hard line to the set of her jaw, the furrow in her brow as she purses her lips. Ellie’s fingers tap on the steering wheel, the only sound in the small car.

“You’re not alone, Ellie,” Dina says, softly breaking the silence, “unless you decide to be.” Her hand lands on Ellie’s, gently prying her fingers from the steering wheel and linking them with her own. Ellie’s heart beats against her ribs at the simple contact.

“I’m so angry with them,” Ellie mumbles, and Dina’s thumb rubs a soothing pattern into the back of her hand, “but I…I miss him. He’s my dad, y’know?”

“I know,” Dina says, and she leans across the centre console and leaves a lingering kiss at the corner of Ellie’s jaw, “I know.”

“It’s not like I have a mom to fall back on anymore,” Ellie says with a wry laugh. Dina’s hand squeezes hers tightly.

“You’ve got me,” Dina says, and her smile is small and close-lipped, the way her eyebrows pull up in the middle drawing Ellie closer until their lips meet in a quick kiss.

“Thank you,” Ellie whispers. Dina just nods and lifts her free hand to Ellie’s cheek, pulling her back in for another kiss. Warm tingles make their way all the way down to Ellie’s toes, and she sighs against Dina’s lips. “Will you come with me?”

“Anywhere.”

***

Ellie hears the guitar before she sees him sitting on his back porch, legs crossed and fingers pulling music from the strings. Her feet feel heavy as she walks up the four steps, her fingers tapping along the railing as she approaches him.

“Hey,” she says.

He looks up from the neck of the guitar, his eyes wide as he takes her in. The music stops, and the guitar is gently set aside. “Hi.”

“Sounds good,” Ellie says, nodding at the guitar.

“It’s nothin’,” Joel mumbles. He picks up the steaming mug that sits on the small table beside him and stands. Almost simultaneously, they turn and lean on the railing, staring out at the dark backyard.

“Coffee?” Ellie asks.

“Mhm,” Joel takes a sip, “it’s not bad.”

They both nod, the sounds of cicadas cutting through the quiet night.

“I had Seth under control,” Ellie says.

“Yeah, I know,” Joel answers, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Ellie nods, tapping her fist on the top of the railing. “Okay.” Joel stares straight ahead, his fingers twitching where they hold the mug. Through the gaps in his hands, Ellie can see the owl she’d painted on it years ago. It was a gift for Father’s Day; she didn’t know he still had it.

“Dina.” His voice is stronger now, but still soft, and Ellie looks down at her hands. “Is she your…girlfriend?”

Ellie exhales heavily through her nose. “No, that was just – I don’t know.” She sighs and scratches at a spot under her eye.

“But you do like her,” he says, and Ellie avoids his gaze, rubbing her chin on her shoulder.

“It’s stupid.”

“Look, I have no idea what that girl’s intentions are,” and he pauses here, looking into his mug, “but I do know she would be _lucky_ to have you.”

Ellie scoffs at that, clenching her hands into fists. “Sure.”

“Is everything okay, kiddo?”

The nickname tugs at her heart. She kicks her foot out, bouncing the rubber toe of her sneaker off the bottom of the rail.

“I met my mom.”

She looks over to Joel, and he drops his gaze from her face. “Oh?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ellie mumbles, “she left.”

The porch creaks as Joel shifts his weight. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Are you?” Ellie snaps. Joel flinches at her words, and she takes a deep breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean -”

“You did,” Joel interrupts, “and I deserved it.”

“Yeah,” Ellie shrugs, “you kind of did.”

“I know you’ll probably never forgive me,” Joel says, “but I hope that, one day…you might be willing to try.” His voice shakes as he speaks.

“I want to,” Ellie answers. Joel makes this noise in the back of his throat, clearing it or choking something back, Ellie can’t tell. “Try, I want to try.”

“I’d like that,” he says, and Ellie can hear in his voice that he’s reflecting her tears.

“Cool,” she says, sniffing and pursing her lips.

“I actually, uh, have something for you,” Joel says. He reaches into his pocket and fishes something small and silver out. He puts it on the railing and slides it across the wood. Ellie takes it and runs her thumb along the side.

“A key?” Ellie asks. “You know, I have a key to your house.”

“I know,” Joel says, “this isn’t for the house.”

“What’s it for?”

Joel lifts his mug and stretches a finger out to point at the garage. “I thought, if you wanted to,” he clears his throat again, “you could live there.”

“In the garage?” Ellie frowns. “I’m not a badly-behaved dog.”

“Why don’t you just go in and check it out?” Joel says with a sigh. Ellie gives him a side-eye, but she hops over the railing and lands down on the lawn, knowing it will get under his skin.

The key fits in the garage lock, and Ellie turns it slowly. The door opens without a creak, and her hand fumbles on the wall for where she knows the light switch is.

Her jaw drops.

Everything from her room in Joel’s house that she had left behind is in the garage now. And not in a storage way, but in a newly-renovated, organized and livable way. Her bed is in one corner, a row of shelving and hangers opposite it. A small television sits on those shelves, something that Ellie didn’t have before. Sparkling lights are strung up around the seam where the walls and ceiling meet, a few posters framed and hung. There’s a kitchenette, a small bathroom, a couch.

Ellie stands in the middle of the garage, and she turns to see Joel in the doorway. He looks nervous, watching her take it all in.

“You did this?” She asks.

“With some help from Tommy,” he says, “I just wanted to make sure you knew that, if you wanted to…you could come home.”

Ellie feels the prickling of tears behind her eyes. “It’s pretty cool.” She tries to wipe subtly at her eyes, and Joel does her the courtesy of pretending not to notice. “Better than the storage room.”

“Sounds like there’s a lot to catch up on,” Joel mutters.

“Maybe tomorrow?” Ellie feels nervous, asking him for his time. “Dina’s waiting in the car.”

“Of course, kiddo,” he says.

Joel walks her to the front gate, and Ellie hesitates, bouncing her fist on the fencepost. She can hear the quiet music from her car radio.

“Thanks,” she says, and Joel shakes his head.

“Of course,” he says, and there’s a moment where Ellie thinks he might try and hug her, but instead he just lifts his mug to his lips and takes a drink.

“Tomorrow night?” Ellie asks, unlatching the gate and stepping through it.

“You know where to find me.”

Dina doesn’t ask any questions when Ellie gets in the car, just lets her drive them to the arcade in silence. Overhead, the streetlamps flicker as they pass under, and Ellie hopes the light they give isn’t strong enough to let Dina see the tears she can feel slowly rolling down her cheeks.

Later, after Ellie has told Dina about her conversation with Joel and they’re wrapped around each other on the cot, Dina traces the bones of Ellie’s hands while Ellie dusts kisses across Dina’s cheeks.

“Can I ask you a question?” Dina says. Ellie hums an affirmative answer, breathing in the smell of Dina’s skin. “Is it okay that I kissed you tonight? At the dance?”

Ellie answers with a firm kiss to Dina’s lips, coaxing her lips apart and pressing her tongue against Dina’s. Dina whimpers and kisses her back eagerly, hands sliding into Ellie’s hair and scratching gently at her scalp.

“Not really an answer,” Dina mumbles as they pull apart.

“I thought it was enough of an answer,” Ellie says, and Dina tugs her hair a little as she rolls her eyes. “Okay, okay. You kissing me tonight was,” Ellie takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, “more than I could have ever dreamed of.” She opens her eyes and meets Dina’s, dark and deep and everything she wants to get lost in for the rest of her life.

“Me too,” Dina says.

“Aren’t you scared?” Ellie asks, and her own heart races as she waits for Dina’s answer.

Dina shakes her head. “With you?” Her smile is a thousand watts. “Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go. 
> 
> Guys.
> 
> My heart feels so full, and seeing this come to an end...it hurts in all the right ways. 
> 
> Thank you to ehefic, to whiskeytango8686, and to shknofftherust for their advice, support, and friendship. 
> 
> Thank you to emdashcomma for not being caught up, but for making me memes and validating me everyday.
> 
> Thank you to every single person who read this, who joined me for this journey, who stuck it out. For commenting, for leaving kudos, for reading and re-reading...there wouldn't be a fic without all of you. 
> 
> New AU has been posted! It's a [western](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26899273/chapters/65638828) and it's going to be an adventure. I hope to see you guys there!
> 
> Keep it real, friends!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoy this little time travel journey with me. There will be about 13 chapters, posted about once a week, maybe every week and a half. I'm really excited for this, and I hope you are too!


End file.
